Chad's spot for various thoughts, musings, poetry, ideas and whatnot

Wednesday, September 04, 2002

100 miles and the Call

It was going to be easy. The legs were good, I felt strong. I had made a good run up in Brooks with a small group. In Savannah there would be 1800. Make the split over the bridge with about 75 other hammers and then sit in for most of the next 4 hours. You see, that was the goal. One hundred miles in four hours on a flat course with only one major obstacle.

Last year I didn’t make the split over the Savannah bridge and ended up in the second group. The bridge is a killer climb. About 1 mile up a 6-10% grade. Last year I tried to stay with the lead group and my heart nearly exploded. Coming down the other side I tried to bridge up to the fast group but I got stuck in the middle and dangled like a badly used modifier until my lungs burned in chest and my quads felt like overcooked pasta. I was then picked up by the second group and after some recovery time I was able to drive the group hard and finish in 4 hours and 30 minutes. I was pleased with my ride but I felt that if I had made the fast group I would have come in with them at 4 hours. So that became a goal.

Fast forward a year. After a year of heavy riding, solid training and getting dropped by the fast groups at the Griffin Century and the Cartersville Century I felt I had worked out the bugs. I could ride the speed but I needed to learn to eat on the bike. Actually I needed to learn to drink. Cytomax specifically. When I ride I get so into the process that I forget to take in calories. That’s OK when I ride my typical 30-40 mile training rides but when I did a century I would start running out of steam at about 50 miles or so. Finally, at the Brooks century I put it all together. I ate well the night before the ride. I drank well during the ride. I was invincible. We did 101 miles in 4 hours and 19 minutes. I drove the group at several points and I felt good. Things looked good for Savannah.

The trip started out rough. It took us forever to get out of town and then we almost couldn’t find a room at the Inn. Still, I arrived at the century ready to rumble. That’s when it started raining. No worries though. I like riding in the rain though I wasn’t too excited about the thought of being in a pack of cyclists with wet brakes for four hours. That’s when the nervousness really set in. I set up with the folks from the Bicycles Unlimited and waited for the ride to start. With a crack of the gun we set off for the bridge. The monster comes only 1.5 miles into the ride. Basically it was like sprinting from the gun. Climbing the bridge is always cool. You can’t describe it, you just have do it to understand. This year I was good. I didn’t go too hard at the beginning but just built until I was passing most of the other riders and I was set up on the back of the lead group for the descent into South Carolina. At the top it was, “Houston, we are go for launch.”

I was on and now came the easy part. Stay alert for the next 3 hours 45 minutes and not miss a split or get caught up in a crash. For an hour things went well. There were a couple of scary moments but things were going according to plan. The legs were good. I felt strong. That’s went the problem came up. I had to pee. Bad. The fast group doesn’t take a pee break. Ever. I couldn’t wait so off the back I went and into the woods. Three minutes for the pit stop. The problem is three minutes is over a mile on a bike. The group had been going easy so I had decided to risk it. I was strong and I knew I could make up the time. Off and back on and the chase began. I could see the lead group about a mile up. I started nailing the distance back. I was doing well until a turn from the north to the west. The group turned and got the wind at their back and they were gone. An hour passed, then two and I knew it was a solo effort and 4 hours was a pipe dream. ‘I coulda been somebody Uncle Jimmy! I coulda been a contender!’ As the fast group shelled people out the back I would catch the poor souls and drop them but I could never catch the flyers. I finished in 4 hours 30 minutes again. Bummer. Still though I was stronger than last year and nobody could hold my wheel. I rode 75 miles alone and spent most of the distance at 80+% of my max heart rate.

It was a good ride but it was also disappointing to miss out on the 4 hour goal because of the call of nature. Some guys told me that I now need to learn to “answer the phone” while still riding. Hmmmmmmm. I’m a pretty modest guy and the thought of letting it all hang out during a spin is a bit...ummmm...well...you know....

So, God willing, there’s next year and another effort. Hopefully the rain will stay away and I’ll be able to hang in there. Until then, there’s more training.

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