Highland Rim. The State Championship road race. At 55 miles it was also the longest road race I have done yet, and by far the hardest. Although rain was on the map, it stayed away during our race.
Brian, Chuck C., Shawn, and I lined up at the front and had a good start. By the first turn at mile 1, a couple of guys from the Krystals team launched a breakaway and I jumped to try and join it. My thought was to work with them for the first few miles and maybe get a headstart on the climb before we got caught. Intentions or not, I didn’t have the legs to hold with their pace. After working hard to try to hold on for a few minutes, I sat up and waited to get absorbed by the field.
That initial effort pushed me close enough to the limit that I hadn’t recovered enough to sit comfortably in the pack once they caught me. Although there was nothing steep, each of the rolling hills in the first 14 miles of the race were a shock to my legs. By ten miles in, I was losing ground to the main pack and had adjusted my goals to bringing in another rider who was gapped. I caught him and we worked at tempo until the base of the climb up Baker Mtn Rd.
The climb was tough. 3 miles at an average grade of around 8% (I think) and sections much steeper than that. 900 feet of elevation gain. I marked my climbing partner and stayed with him until we reached the plateau. He recovered a bit faster than I did and joined another rider who had made up ground on us on the climb and I lost them too. The next 30 miles were an exercise in frustration. Frustration in riding alone yet again during a race. Frustration in my lack of fitness and readiness for this race. Constantly fighting the urge to DNF the race. 30 miles is an ego-crushingly long way to ride at a tempo pace by yourself.
Every few minutes I would stand and push a harder gear to relieve my muscles. Somewhere along the plateau I started to feel the twinge of oncoming cramps and dialed my wattage back slightly to see if it would go away. In a group ride of this length I would have time to stop, refill water bottles, massage the kinks out, and continue on. Not knowing if there were any riders behind me kept me from stopping for fear of losing any additional position.
By mile 45, my quads were starting to cramp in earnest. I spent a couple of miles pedaling with one leg, the other hanging straight down to rest it, then alternating. This helped some, and I was able to regain tempo. It occurred to me that I couldn’t even remember the last time I rode 55 miles without stopping. If ever. I was glad to reach the downhill and tucked in for a quick 40+ mph blast down to the base of the plateau. Four miles to the finish. I’m not 100% sure that the officials even noticed me cross the finish line. I decided to skip the Time Trial and criterium.
I have a much better understanding of what level of fitness will be required for this race next year. I also know that I was nowhere close to that level this year, and with that, I am happy to have finished it. Many racers bailed partway through with flats, or just bailed. Several others crashed out, with one requiring an airlift to Chattanooga with fairly serious injuries. The possibility of racing your way into a State Championship jersey pushed the competitiveness to a higher than normal level for amateur racing.
3 Comments
That’s a tough race and a tough course
That was a tough race and much harder to do by yourself on the surface of the moon aka the plateau. I thought too several times to just quit, which has never crossed my mind before. Hope your legs are recovering! Mine still hurt and even have bruising!
My legs hurt just reading this.