Week 15: Race (07/12/2009 - 07/18/2009)

Race Report 2009: Mt. Evans Hill Climb

Plan D = Success!!!

Plan A = Not be overtrained and exhausted
Plan B = Not get swine flu
Plan C = Get enough sleep, food and training in the 5 days before
Plan D = Show up anyways.

My co-workers have been implementing a new policy called "Summer 'o Fun: No analyses, no consequences". For many, this could be loosely translated to: get drunk and sleep around... but we decided that Summer 'o Fun could mean different things to different people. For me, it was about breaking out of my risk averse race planning habits, and doing my first bicycle race.

No matter that my trial run time would have placed me squarely last by about 45 minutes, or that I've been galavanting off to Wrightwood while Peter dutifully crunched out his hill intervals... this was going to be the year that I entered my first race. Unfortunately, lack of analysis sometimes does breed consequences, and things started to take a turn for the worse after I had registered (hands shaking as I pressed the 'submit' button).

While Wrightwood had seemed like a good idea at the time, the week following was spent in a lethargic, under the weather sort of a state, until I acquired something suspiciously akin to the swine flu. After not eating for 2 days, I was determined to resume some semblance of riding, so that the race would not be my first ride back. Day after nerve wracking day was spent riding slow laps around the Rose Bowl, but results were not what I would have liked. On the contrary, I tried to do a pre-race on Thursday of 10 laps around the RB, but had to abandon after 5, due to extreme fatigue. But circumstances be damned, by golly I was going to do this bicycle race!

I slept fitfully on Friday, having arrived in Denver in time for a nice pizza dinner. I felt that pizza was the secret to success for the Baldy Village adventure a month or two back, and I needed all of the luck I could get. Thankfully, I woke up relatively calm on Saturday and thought better of consuming the remaining pizza for breakfast. Instead I had some slices of bread and got into the car with growing trepidation.

Thankfully, we were able to find parking, and Peter advised me not to warm up, as that would probably just tire me out even more. I was feeling too nervous to function by this point, so I dutifully did as I was told, going to the bathroom numerous times and pedaling absently up and down the main street of Idaho Springs (which is generously about 500m long), waiting for my race time.

Finally, it was within 10 minutes, so I rode over the starting line, and watched the Pro-1-2's depart... then the 3's and the age group riders. We gathered at the starting line at this point, a motley crew of women, ranging from scary, fit looking ones in team kits, to frightened looking ones on pink bikes. I rolled my beautiful vintage steel Tommasini (that Peter had outfitted with fancy campy nucleon racing wheels, but was still probably the heaviest bike of the bunch) to the back of the pack, feeling like if they didn't call the start soon, I was either going to throw up or start crying.

Luckily one of the others noticed my look of sheer terror and started up a friendly conversation. All I could get out in response was "uhhhhh... thisismyfirstbikeraceimreallyreallynervous!" Thankfully for me, the started called the 4's at this point, and off we went. From what I remember the race went kind of like this:

Minute 0: As we clipped in, I glanced down at my HRM and saw 151... apparently it was NOT just my imagination that my heart was pounding in my chest from apprehension. I am fully prepared to be last, but somehow that doesn't reduce the nerves.

Minute 5: I am desperately hanging on to the back of the peloton, which appears to be moving ridiculously fast, as evidenced by my new biking HR PR of 201. Yikes.

Minute 8: Though my heart is already exploding in my chest, the front end of the pack is breaking away, and the person in front of me has lost the wheel in front of her, so I make a move to the outside to bridge up to the first group. For some reason the competitive instincts have overridden caution at this point.

Minute 17: Despite my best efforts, I am dropped by the front pack. Fortunately, a few others are in my boat, so we form a grupetto to get to the base of the climb.

Minute 41: HR has calmed down to about 185 since we hit the climb. Riders are now strung out, but to my surprise, I seem to be fairing better than the others around me. I start picking them off one my one, thinking gleefully that I've got a lot of time to move up. This is more fun than I thought! (somewhere in here, we almost got hit by a station wagon, that was attempting to do a 3 pt turn on the race course... *shakes fist*)

1 hr 15 min: I reach Echo Lake, where there is a short flat section that marks the half way point (distance-wise, the steeper part is yet to come). I'm 15 minutes ahead of my trial time, so I'm pleased. I'm still feeling some nerves at this point, so I throw in an all out sprint on the flat section, prompting some disapproving comments from nearby riders "there's still a long way to go, you know..." I do know, but I'm all nerves and excitement.

1 hr 45 min: Ugh, its not as good when there's no one ahead of you to chase. The last person who I passed has hung onto my wheel, so I've been pulling this chick for a few miles now, but otherwise no one else from our original group is around. We don't lack for company though, as now we start to pass the citizens riders and age groupers who started ahead of us. I see the mile 5 sign, which means there are 9.5 more miles to go. I start to worry again about finishing... so I consume a gu to distract myself. I didn't swerve or crash, so it's a success! It's hard going, but at the same time it's easy to space out. I just tried to keep my HR above 185.

Suddenly, everything changes at once. The girl behind me offers to take a pull, so I sit back for a few minutes, but then, a third girl passes us on the right, and so we hang onto her wheel, a 3 person chain. I find the new pace a bit grueling, but I don't want to be dropped so I hang on. We're starting to pass more people... then *gasp* the girl in front of me loses the wheel in front of her! In a split second reaction, I surge past her to catch up with the first girl, who turns out to be the nice person who talked to me at the starting line.

~2 hr 15 min: I've been riding with the new person for a while now, I'm getting used to the faster pace, but my HR is now 193-5. She's also a former runner, but has been mountain biking for 7 years now. She's really nice, and the miles seem to be ticking by quicker... though one might imagine I should have been saving my copious amounts of breath for survival purposes. We get to Summit Lake, a glacial pool looking thing quicker than I thought, and I can smell the finish, though it is about 5 miles away still. The climbing starts picking up again soon afterwards, and my new riding buddy has gapped me. I know that its time to dig my heels in and finish, with or without her. I see Peter descending at about this point, and he tells me I'm on pace to finish in about 3 hours! This is the first time I've even thought about time.

2 hr 30 min: It's time for the last gu. I know I'm close, and I know I have to finish strong. I've been doing finish time estimates at the last few mile markers--assuming I can maintain 6 mph in the worst case scenario, each mile should take 10 minutes... by mile 12 I realized I was going significantly faster than 6 mph, and that I was going to break 3 hours! The switchbacks are getting pretty intense, but I stand up in the saddle, muttering "come on, you can do this!" to myself over and over.

2 hr 51 min: I make the final turn and cross a thin white line on the road, well before the end of the parking lot where I stopped before. "Wait, that was the finish?" I ask quizzically as they call out my race number. I look down at my HRM and see 2:51 something... holy crap! I did it! Never in my wildest dreams was this a possible scenario. I roll into sea of cyclists towards the 14,000 ft sign, wild eyed and giggling like a maniac, which in turn prompts a severe coughing fit. Passerby express concern, but I am unfazed. This truly is my Summer 'o Fun!


Sunday 07/12: Off, swine flu recovery continues. Still feeling nauseous, but I need to start riding again tomorrow, so towards nightfall, I force down a small bowl of plain Pho. It's tasty but I can feel my stomach begin to gurgle again. After some nervous hours, I'm confident that this meal isn't coming back up, so I try to get some sleep.

Monday 07/13: 22.2 miles, 1:23:20 (15.9 mph) 5 x RB laps in the evening. I'm still feeling vaguely nauseous and achey so, sleep is hard to come by, no matter when I go to bed. I couldn't manage to wake up, but I did manage to get home early enough to squeeze in a short ride. I felt really, really weak... like riding was a foreign concept, just couldn't get any power on the pedals. Kept a high cadence and went easy, but I was still discouraged to see the speed.

Tuesday 07/14: 25.6 miles, 1:34:49 (16.2 mph) 6 x RB laps. Feeling marginally better, but still sluggish. There was also this annoying dude who kept sprinting past me and then falling back repeatedly. I really, really hate people who do that. I'm concentrating on my training and enjoying some peace and quiet in the morning. Just do your own damn workout.

Wednesday 07/15: 33.9 miles, 2:21:17 (14.4 mph) Angeles Crest to Clear Creek. I had to test out some climbing before the race, even though I knew it would probably wear me out. I just concentrated on keeping race goal pace of between 8-9 mph. I knew this was unrealistic given the trial run, and that I wouldn't have a spedometer anyways... but for some reason I felt the need to do this. 8-9 mph is pedestrian at this lower altitude... but my HR was going crazy anyways. I decide it's still an overall good sign, the best ride I've had this week.

Thursday 07/16: 22.2 miles, 1:23:42 (15.9 mph) 5 x RB laps. Pre-race, because tomorrow is shot day. I have 10 x RB laps planned, but after 4, I slow down catastrophically, feeling insanely fatigued. I decide its time to limp back home after this really really old guy passes me... *sigh*. I feel discouraged again, how can someone who can barely complete 5 RB laps race 28 miles uphill???

Friday 07/17: Off, shots. Travel to Colorado. It's now or never, I am still determined to do the race!

Saturday 07/18: 56 miles, 4:15-ish? I didn't measure the return journey, because I wanted to preserve the record of the 2:51. I rode back down with the nice girl from the starting line, but parted ways at Echo Lake. The remainder of the descent was hot, windy and dehydrated. I couldn't make it to the car, so I stopped at the starting line to drink a bottle of water, but crashed on the sand in my hurry... nuts. I get back to the car, and I'm happy but I'm thoroughly exhausted now. Also, I feel headachey and nauseous again. Damn swine flu just won't die.


Training this week: 159.9 miles, 10:58:08. You know, this wasn't the way I envisioned my first race, but it was awesome! Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction.