Today I rode the CRW century, the toughest ride on my calendar. 5200 feet of climbing mostly over 3 big climbs, long and steep, basically a suffer-fest. Since I returned to MA in August, conquering this ride has been an obsession. Along side my obsession I've also been plagued by fear, uncertainty and doubt. My history with this ride has been anything but stellar, I've done it twice and both times it was a killer. In 2007 I survived but my time was unimpressive and I felt like death at the end. In 2008 I hung on by my fingernails for 35 miles but my effort had me suffering terrible back spasms at the base of the first major climb. I knew I was in trouble so I sucked down a tangerine gel to get a boost. My breathing was so out of control I ended up inhaling it, squirting acidic acid onto the alveoli in my lungs that were already raw from the previous hour and a half of gasping. This started an uncontrollable coughing jag that wouldn't quit. The summit was 1,100 feet up and 10.5 miles away. I was immediately dropped. I watched the peloton ride away leaving me alone on the ascent. As I struggled along hacking and wheezing I endured an occasional rider passing me and disappearing up the hill. I couldn't catch a wheel no matter how hard I tried. My good friend Charlie waited for me on the other side of the mountain and pulled me to the 50 mile sag. I tried to recover there but the coughing just would not stop and my back was still killing me. About 20 minutes of this I knew my day was over so I limped home defeated and discouraged, convinced I was on the downward slide associated with aging.
I've been in MA for about a month and I've been trying to get used to hills again after 11 months in FL hammering the flats. Last Sunday I did the CT Valley Century and finished with the leaders averaging 21.5 MPH. Not bad, but that ride was pretty flat. My legs felt good Monday so I went out for a 63 mile ride at a recovery pace of 17.5 MPH. When I went out Tuesday the cumulative miles had set in, my legs felt heavy and my knees were sore. Wednesday and Thursday I did 25 mile rides at a slower pace but my legs still didn't have any snap. Fear, uncertainty and doubt were starting to rear their ugly heads. Had I screwed up my upcoming conquest? I generally ride every day so I didn't think resting 2 days would be a good idea so I went out again on Friday with my friends Charlie and Peter. We did 33 miles. I told Charlie I was still feeling last week's century and he said he was too, that made me feel a bit better. After 20 miles our average speed was approaching 20 MPH, fortunately we were entering a busy bike path, so we dialed it back. We finished up averaging 19 MPH, probably shouldn't have gone that fast. Saturday morning was cold so I took the day off the bike and went kayaking.
So now it's Sunday, the big day is here and I have no idea how I'm going to perform. I'd already declared on Facebook that I was hoping to break 5 hours. Can I come up with the goods? I arrived at the start around 7:30. It was cold, mid 40's. I hadn't seen cold in a long time and I wasn't enjoying it. I brought all kinds of clothes with me and I was having a hard time making a decision. I finally settled on knickers, arm warmers and a light vest. Peter, Paul, Lisa and I took off with the A group and the tempo was brisk right from the gun. I knew the road conditions weren't good so I tried to stay near the front but in a slipstream. I looked back after a few miles but none of my comrades were present, I never saw them again. We burned down the road dodging potholes, at one point I took the bottle from my seat tube cage and stuck it in my pocket so it wouldn't get launched. The first climb of substance was Rt 225 out of West Groton toward 2A. I wanted to discover the climbers in the group so I went toward the front. Two teammates wearing "Competitive" jerseys took the lead so I jumped on their wheels, mentally noting these were the guys I wanted pacing me up the brutal climb to Mason Ridge. Unfortunately one of them flatted and his teammate stayed behind to help him.
By the time we hit the base of the climb we had covered 35 miles at 21.1 MPH. Last year we only did 20.5 and I was dead but this year I felt great. We turned the corner and started the climb. Within a minute there were only 3 of us at the front. One guy was obviously a climber, young and lean with a great spin. The other guy had a disc wheel in the rear with a Powertap hub and a time trial helmet. He was a spaz. I was looking for somebody to settle into a rhythm and pace me up the hill. The climber was just too much for me and the other guy kept standing, attacking the climber, blowing up, sitting down and going slow. I ended up passing the spaz and going up alone. I finished the 10.5 mile climb in 35 minutes averaging 18.2 MPH. At this point we had 46 miles down and the average speed was still 20.5. I was beginning to think I could possibly meet the sub 5 hour goal but I knew there were 2 more big climbs and I would have to ride smart.
The spaz and I worked together on the descent and eventually ran down the climber on Rt 31 and we all hit the 50 Mile sag together. It was weird having only 3 of us at the stop. Nobody else showed up for quite a while. Leaving the sag there is a monster hill. While the climber and I were filling up bottles and taking a nature break the disc wheel guy took off on his own. I told the climber he was out of my league and if he rode off I was going to wait for a group to sit in with.
He paced me up the hill and we passed the disc guy, it was taking a lot out of me but I hung on until Old Milford Rd. That's where we parted ways. The hill is only 1.5 miles but I was in my lowest gear and my heart rate was pinned. That hill was 6 minutes of hell, I could only muster a 13.5 MPH average but I got down the other side fast still had a 20.4 MPH average in Brookline Center. The goal was still attainable. I had 35 miles to go but I was alone. I knew I didn't want to go solo so I waited...and waited. It seemed like 10 minutes, finally a guy came down the hill alone. Hoping for a group I kept waiting. By the time another guy came by I was starting to stiffen up so I went with him. He wasn't much help and my average was slipping down to 20.2. Finally someone ran us down from behind and I took off with him dropping the other guy. My new friend was in a hurry to get back for the Patriots game at 1 PM so he was a ideal partner. We hammered the last 30 miles and finished 100 miles 4:54 and with a 20.3 AVG.
I never thought I'd have my best day ever on a bike on the verge of my 60th birthday and I've got to tell you it feels great knocking 22 minutes off my time from 2 years ago and adding 1 full MPH to the average speed. I've done faster rides but this one is special. After having this ride kick my butt for two years I feel like I've beaten a demon.
It's after 2 AM and the endorphins are finally letting go, I think I'll go to bed now.
Good night all, see you next summer.
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