Pinetop-Lakeside
After a week of dribbling, this weekend was the culmination of dribble-ville: the Tour of the White Mountains.
Devil bug’s hold on my upper resporitory system has been loose’d, but the fatigue continues. Fatigue is not a good demon to have haunting you before and during a 66 mile mountain bike race. But so it was.
This was a very difficult race for me to deal with mentally. I won the race two years ago by 45 minutes and that was, to my memory, one of the last decent races I’ve had.
As I rode the memories of two years ago circled around me: surprising the aid station volunteers, actively scanning for course markings, always worried that I had gone astray, running scared of second place, that unknown attacker approaching from behind, but mostly I remember flying smooth. In 2001 I lead the race out and within 10 minutes was by myself. I never saw anyone for the next five hours.
This year I lead the race out again, thinking that I could keep my demon at bay. My legs felt like bricks and ten minutes into the race I had a line of 15 riders behind me. At the first climb my body refused to allow me to expend energy. But for the next two hours I pushed, fought and kicked against the demon. I was a completely different rider. My strengths were now my weaknesses. And my weaknesses, well they were even weaker. For a while, I thought it could be done. The three leaders were ten seconds in front of me riding, cutely, in a tight group. But we were 20 miles in, and my body cried with each climb. I tripped over a gate that I was trying to hurdle cyclocross style and found my legs standing still. They wouldn’t get back on my bike and I watched the leaders pull away. After standing dumb for less than a minute I got back on and felt normal. The next time I went to breathe hard, I was back where I was before–hoytsville.
Flats were ok, downhills ok. Climbing? Each one was an insult. It was a new experience for me. I felt like I was 12 years old again, climbing with enthusiasm the hills behind research park in Salt Lake City. I’d make it about 45 seconds and then my body would realize what was happening and revolt.
Fifteen miles later I expended my last ounce of willpower on the lake mountain climb. Somehow I kept my legs turning on this steep, loose, granny gear climb. For the first time in the race, I felt alive. I amazed even myself by riding to where it turns downhill. After the downhill I attempted the next small climb and nearly collapsed. I was done. I survival-mode rode to Hottie, awaiting me at mile ~40.
A better rider may have been able to push all the way through, but that rider is not me. We talked it over a bit and she told me to turn left, cutting off a 14 mile loop; headed home. I wimped out of the race, but I’ll be riding this week which is more important to me. I rode and walked back with Hottie and we got to cheer everyone else on, including some timid riders in the shorter distances. I congratulated the top 66 mile riders as they rode by. They were the better riders today.
Brian Bennett beat my 2001 time by two minutes (though I’ll bet no one told him to go the wrong way at an aid station, costing him 20 minutes). Still, what matters is the time you cross the line, so my record was broken. That makes it even harder for me–I could have had a real race on my hands. I rode behind him for the first part of the race; he knows how to ride.
Even with my lingering illness, the weekend and race were most enjoyable. I can’t say enough about the race and organization. What I like is that it doesn’t feel like a race, yet I am more motivated to ride strong and hard. The course has a little bit of everything–even a bit of steep granny gear climbing. It isn’t exceptionally difficult or interesting, but it does require real mountain biking skills.
I was lucky to hook up with the SDMB crew who had a house for the weekend. For a few measely bucks we were treated to first class accomodations and grub. We rode “secret trails” in Pinetop-Lakeside the day after the race. My knees ached a bit and I spun unbelievably slow on the climbs, but the ride was a blast.
I already cannot wait until next year.
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