During the prerace meeting on Friday night, Jeff Bonsall and I sat eating spaghetti and sharing some small talk with friends and co-racers when Jeff filled a conversational lull with the question,"How are you feeling about things?" He's a very patient guy and put up with what was likely a very long winded answer. My attitude was one of, "well, let's get started and see what happens." Before I got sick, I would have spewed confidence and hopes to see what it's like to ride up front. Friday night, though, I was preparing for a long, lonely ride. I knew that three weeks with very little ride time meant a different race than I had hoped for, so my thoughts were simply of making each checkpoint before it closed. Simply keep plugging away. Jeff said he felt his fitness was better than last year but that his plan was similar. Get to each checkpoint and stairstep the race to the finish. With that said, there was this other voice in my head that wouldn't let go. The one that tells you that everyone has a 'magic' day once in a while. I think deep down, I was hoping for some magic.
That night, last year's 'go light' freeze at night was abandoned for a more expedition style plan. The weather, which has been pretty well documented, looked like it would be hell throughout the race and it was the last leg that concerned me most. With temps forecast around 30 degrees and calls for a wintery mix, not to mention only a couple of pass-thru towns with stores along the way, I decided to carry more early so I would have it at the end.
Mrs. Snob sewed me a messenger bag for the task and I loaded it with extra clothes, a bit of food, meds and bottles. Enough to go through towns with either short stops or without stopping at all.
At the start line, I remained cautiously optimistic. My bag wasn't terribly heavy and my cough was nowhere to be seen. As
G-Ted lead us off of Ice Cave road and into the first climb, I watched
MG and Eric climb up the road into toward the lead group and I soon found myself in a second group which included
Corey,
Constantine, Aris,
Scott Cole,
Dennis Grelk, eventual fourth place finisher Charles Parsons and a few others.
During the first 50 miles, I felt like my usual self, climbing well and feeling like a working part of the group. Somewhere shortly afterward, it was as if the volume dial was slowly getting turned down on my riding. Like an early season ride when your fitness isn't quite up for a long one, I was fading.
9... 8... 7...
Along the way, I had some nice, albeit short, conversations with several in our group. Aris had given his Snappy Cap to his girlfriend because it was one of the few cycling caps she had seen that was 'cool.' Scott was riding with thoughts of a friend who is fighting cancer for the second time. Corey and I often joked and tried to remember to have a good time. (Up one hill in particular, Corey, Constantine and I were climbing near each other and as Corey spun, Constantine and I were fighting the single speed fight so I yelled, "Man, I love pedalling squares!" in my best radio voice. I am a dork.) All of this had me enjoying myself despite numb hands, fading energy and the thought that I would soon be off of the back solo.
6... 5... 4...
For a while, I became accordian man. I would fall away from the group slowly, then meet the group at a pass-thru town. Since I didn't have to do anything but get water, I was leaving with the same group, then fading again. Back and forth. Forth and back. Luckily for me, our group also missed the flags to get around the first flooded road because it helped Matt Wills and Jeff catch us more quickly. I was then able to ride with MW for about 20 miles with Jeff doing his own accordian work with the two of us. (At some point, MW and I passed a dead raccoon that was on the roof of a barn. I've seen a lot of dead raccoons, but none several days old on a hot tin roof.) However, we all faded at different rates and around the 65 mile mark, I was riding solo and thinking about how I wanted to handle the rest of the race. I was feeling pretty low, but told myself I had planned on this so it was time for a one step at a time attitude.
Then I hit Dove Rd. (Fuck you, Dove Rd. Fuck you and the gravel that rests on you.) Dove Rd. started off nicely enough with a small bridge over a little creek. Dove Rd. then jacks up at a pretty sharp incline and makes you work. I got maybe halfway up it and started walking. It felt a little like failure but I couldn't ride it so there was nothing else left. After another minute or so, I heard noise from behind and it was a group with Corey, Charles, MG, Scott and Constantine.
"Why in hell are you guys behind me?"
"We stopped to get lunch." Corey replied. That was the heat seeker. Three weeks of disappointment and stress over getting sick before TI burned through me as that group passed, everyone looking strong as they went. As arrogant and selfish as it sounds, I felt like that was my group to be in and so disappointed I wasn't there and walking my bike. "I wanted to put a bullet in the head of every panda that wouldn't fuck to save it species."
3... 2... 1...
I carried on from there just grinding away. At some point, my feet also started throbbing as they did last year and my frustrations grew. (I also resolved at this point to get custom shoes, but that story is for another post.) Jonn and Justin, our support team, pulled up next to me at one point and asked how I was doing. "I'm fucked!!" was my angry response. Jonn's facial expression told me he didn't know what to do with my response so I moved on.
"Have you talked to Jeff?"
"Avey? No, why would I..."
"NO! Bonsall!! How's he doing?"
"Oh... we just passed him. He's not too far behind you."
...2 ...3 ...4
And with that, I felt a little better. With each climb, I keep looking back for Jeff. Dennis came by during this time, but he was riding very much in his own head and it seemed best to let him keep rocking, so I looked for Jeff. As I topped out at a very long hill, I saw just come around a curve at the bottom. Jeff could have taken a year to get up that hill and I would have waited for him. He slugged it out like a machine though and soon stood next to me.
I dug into my messenger, pulled out a Starbuck's Daybreak cookie and held it up to Jeff.
"I have two questions for you. One, do you want to share this cookie. Two, would you mind my company to the checkpoint?" Luckily for me, Jeff answered 'yes' to both.
...5 ...6 ...7
Jeff and I slugged our way to the finish like guys out for a ride on Sunday, but guys riding with purpose. I enjoyed that time a lot. We made the cutoff with about five minutes to spare. My feet were getting worse and I had already decided I was done. There was another moment when I thought of grabbing Constantine, MG and Jeff and going for it, but it was quickly quelled by thoughts of 9 Mile being ruined by my feet last year (and Showen's IM to me about that very fact on Thursday).
I took my shoes off, snuck off to have a coughing fit and pulled out another cookie to share with MG. Eric, MW and Corey had gone back out and it was time to grab the pom-poms to go super fan. We still had a long night ahead of us....