Blitz

The capacity to suffer is a quantity, measurable like any other. Sometimes you have it, and sometimes you do not. I had built a large stockpile in preparation for the AZT 300. But it came up lacking (or rather, I did). Not enough suffering, and then it was over.

You can only store so much before it eats away at you. Before you ache to spend it.

A day forecast for less than 80 degrees was not a thing to waste. In March I lost my TMP Rock ‘n Road record, dethroned by a large crew of local fast guys. Since then it’s been unfinished business to try and earn it back.

This time I started at Sweetwater (you can start wherever you want on the loop). A road runner zoomed across the parking lot. A good omen for a swift day.

I wasted no time, ramping up to quick pace. Accustomed to riding easy out here, I found it hard to stay on the trail in places!

Two blinks later, I was on pavement, heading for Tucson Mountain Park, with a large crew of other cyclists and police at intersections! I don’t follow road events, but surmised it must be the Tour of the Tucson Mountains. I smiled at my serendipitous timing. I’d be doing my own Tour of the Tucson Mountains today, and there was plenty of suffering and positive energy for human powered motion in the air.

I powered by the ‘back of the pack’ers, and it was pretty inspiring to see them pushing hard up the hills.

GPS kept me on course, powertap kept me on pace, and the split chart kept me motivated. Less than an hour in, I was already well ahead of pace.

A good thing or a bad thing? By the time I was dodging saguaros on the 36th street singletrack, I could feel hairline cracks. Coasting high above Irvington on the ‘Best of the West’ trail, the cracks were already growing wide. I was not sure I could keep humpty dumpty together.

But I sure as hell was going to try.

More cyclists on Ajo road. More smiling.

Back into Tucson Mountain Park, my back tightened in response to all the nonstop rough riding. I knew it was meaningless pain — it’s an old friend from my days racing XC. Annoying, but it’s also self limiting — it kept me from blowing my top off completely.

I was happy to get off and walk a bit, pushing up to Golden Gate Pass. When riding this hard my ability to climb technical stuff goes down the toilet anyway.

It’s difficult to recover descending Golden Gate, but something clicked and I found myself cleaning the whole thing. Hello Mojo!

All manner of flowers lined the sides of the trails (and roads). Red, yellow and orange prickly pear, four colors of cholla, purple hedgehog, even saguaro. All were merely streaks of bright color at blitz pace. Useful, though, too. Though beautiful, each is a death blossom to be avoided by tires and knuckles, automatic senses using the bright colors as cues.

Climbing the loose “well road”, just about everything was screaming at me–back and knees especially. I longed for the extended bike pushing Brown Mountain would offer. I needed to get off the bike and loosen up.

It did just that. Once you get up there, Brown Mountain is a fantastic trail. Descending off this gem of a ridgeline run, I was happy to be done with all the singletrack (rough) riding. Now it was just a matter of determination, and pain, of course.

The dirt roads through Saguaro National Park went quickly, with a bit of a ‘mixed blessing’ headwind, keeping me cool but also holding me back. I’d happily look at my current wattage to confirm what I already knew — my legs still held strength. Everything else was on the precipice of disaster, but I only needed to keep my grip for an hour or so longer…

Traffic on Picture Rocks Rd was, as expected, high and somewhat unfriendly. I really didn’t need another reason to punch it over the pass, motivated enough as I was. But the sooner I’m off this road the better. I logged my ‘peak’ 1 minute, 30 second and 20 second power intervals here (geek alert!), and I think it was a mistake.

I rolled onto the gasline trail, feeling confident and ready to knock out the last ~30 minutes of the route, gunning to take a half hour off the current record. I dismounted for one of the gates, and climbing the fence went well. Remounting did not. I did the ‘motivated’ bike start where you push hard with one of your legs to get rolling as you hop on the seat.

Bad idea! My calf squealed and tightened into a knot. I foolishly tried to pedal before realizing that wasn’t going to work. My mind flashed–what do you do when you cramp? I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve cramped on a bike — it’s just not something that happens to me (so far anyway!). Let’s see… stretch, massage, drink, electrolytes. I tried to stretch a bit and it relaxed enough to regain control.

Still in race mode, I thought “be smart, start with your other leg.” I did that, but with too much strength. My other calf cramped, with twice the force, and triple the pain. !#$@%!!#$#

I tried to stay standing, but it wasn’t easy. Wow, am I going to get this far only to get shut down with cramps? Holy curve ball.

No. The other leg took a little longer to come back to me, but it did. I hopped on, with no push, and pedaled gingerly, hoping. Daggers in both legs, but rolling again. The last bits of the gasline were awkward to say the least. Unpredictable movements of the legs were difficult to avoid, and I had to climb over a couple more gates. My foot cramped, followed by a calf again, but I kept moving.

I was now on wide open dirt roads, and could keep my position stationary, movements smooth. The yellow CPU still showed high power output, much to my astonishment. I stood to mash up a hill, but my quad responded with a mild cramp. Just kidding there legs… I’ll stay seated and stick to the agreed upon movements only.

There were no cracks anymore, just shattered pieces with no hope of putting them back together. But I only had minutes to go. Keep it together and keep pedaling. The last mile up Tortolita Road held some notable moments of zen. It is a rare thing to attain such a quality of suffering, when you are losing your grip, and yet finding a new, mysterious one.

I rolled into the parking lot for a time of 5:14:37, 24 minutes minutes faster than the previous best.

Done and done. Cheesy mugshot for Chad.