W

hen I saw Sam ahead of me I knew that it was time to attack. Glory was at hand. Sam was the strongest rider amongst the group of friends I was racing the 2010 Julian Death March with and if I finished ahead of him, I would be first among my friends. It was Go-Time.

The Julian Death March is an 86-mile mountain bike race that gains 14,000 feet of elevation on everything from clean pavement to hike-a-bike jeep trails. I first raced the JDM last year and completed the first 62-mile loop in about 7 hours before calling it quits. Not being able to complete the full course last year left a sour taste in my mouth and I was back for redemption. I would do everything to finish the full Death March this year.

The race started at 8:00am from Frank Lane Park in Julian which is really just a dirt parking lot. About 80 riders rolled out of town on pavement with a police escort. We turned left onto a rolling country road making our way into the hills. I was in a group just behind the leaders, watching them quickly spin away. Placing high up in the JDM was out of the question; my goal was to simply survive the race. In order to survive, I needed to keep an easy pace early on and let the leaders go. My friend Sam was in that front group – he’s a serious hardman.

Mickey and I looking fresh before the race.

The gap was widening when a rider flashed out of our group, sprinting to join the leaders. She was going all out to chase them down and I seriously wondered if she knew this was an 86-mile race. If it was so important to stay with the leaders, she should have been with them from the start. Chasing at full power in the first half hour of the race can’t be good.

The leaders disappeared and soon we were flying down the 8-mile descent along Eagle Peak Road. Down, down, down we went on gravel roads. It’s eerie losing 2,500 feet of elevation all at once because you know you’re going to have to get it back soon enough. After 20 minutes in free-fall, the fun was over and we made the left had turn onto Cedar Creek and began climbing rugged jeep trails.

Great fisheye perspective on the initial 2,500 foot descent.

I kept an easy pace and focused on proper nutrition – it was going to be a really long day. The jeep trails gave into gravel roads and then quickly into smooth pavement as I began the climb up Engineers. I was feeling much better than I did racing last year and made quick progress to the top.

I was racing with several friends. My friend Sam was with the leaders. Dr. Hodges was somewhere ahead, not sure how far ahead. And my friend Mickey was somewhere behind, taking a slightly easier pace to finish the day. So, I considered myself 3rd among friends, which isn’t bad – it’s at least on the podium, right?

Sam, Dr. Hodges, Mickey and I.

After a quick stop to refill bottles, I began my descent down Chariot Canyon. I was feeling great and kept a quick pace as I turned down Rodriguez Canyon to the base of the infamous Oriflamme climb. Oriflamme is an absolute beast climbing 1,600 feet in just 3.5 miles over a rutted and rocky jeep trail. It was in the early steepness of Oriflamme that I discovered that my lowest gear was worn out, the chain skipping whenever I tried applying high torque. I walked a lot more than normal telling myself I was preparing for the hike-a-bike sections of the Leadville 100.

At one point I was passed by two women racers. They looked super strong and were climbing fast. I remembered passing them earlier and said “Hello” as they rolled past me walking. I caught them up near the top as they apparently stopped to pee. We would spend the rest of the race leap-frogging each other. The only reason I ever caught them was when they stopped to pee. Funny.

Back at the top of Chariot Canyon I felt déjà vu descending again. But, instead of turning towards Rodriguez this time, I kept left headed for the base of Banner Grade. I found Dr. Hodges at the Aid Station at the bottom of Banner Grade and we left together in search of the new section of the JDM nicknamed “Wayne’s Trail”.

Headed to Chariot Canyon after Fages Monument.

The trail turned out to be little more than a goat path through the rocks and weeds. With my lowest gear out of commission, I was forced to walk a lot and got frustrated and a bit bonky. I was not prepared for the climb back into Julian to be this difficult and I suffered as I watched Dr. Hodges go off the front.

The Girls passed me at some point then another woman racer passed me that I recognized as the one who’d sprinted to join the leaders early on. How the heck did she get behind me? She must have gotten lost along the way. She climbed ahead of me and then dropped down another trail to the left and began to accelerate away. I didn’t think there was a descent here so I stopped and consulted my Garmin to find out she’d just gone off trail again. She was headed back for the bottom of the climb. I shouted “Wrong way!” to no avail. I remember seeing her wearing earbuds…

On Hwy 79 speeding towards Soapstone Grade.

I finished the remaining bits of the climb and headed back into Julian, the first 62-miles of the race complete. This is when I had quit last year, too exhausted to go for the final 22-mile section. When I had checked in last year they asked me if I was headed back out and I had answered, “Heck no!” This year, when I checked in I told them I was headed back out before being asked. I wanted to commit to going back out.

Dr. Hodges was just finishing up refilling his bottles when I arrived. We decided to head out for the second section together. As I was mixing Perpetuem I saw Brent Prenzlow (race winner) who said “Hello”. We chatted a bit and it dawned on me that he’d won the entire race 20 minutes faster than it took me to complete the first 62 miles. Damn, that’s fast.

Dr. Hodges and I heading into the Santa Ysabel Preserve.

Within minutes, Dr. Hodges and I were speeding towards the Santa Ysabel Preserve and the final miles of the race. I was feeling good and optimistic about a strong finish. We hit the initial sections of dirt in a strong clip and Dr. Hodges admitted to feeling a bit knackered and suggested I go on ahead. He couldn’t follow any strong pushes now. I thought about it but decided to finish with him. I had nothing to gain by being a few minutes ahead of him so we continued on. We caught the Girls (peeing again, I believe) and descended to the bottom of the hill. They caught us up on the climb and everyone was friendly about it. They were getting to be old friends at this point. They must have stopped again for some reason because we caught them just as it started to flatten out in a faster section of the course. I spotted Sam ahead just after passing them.

I accelerated up to Sam to see what happened and could tell immediately that he was struggling with The Bonk. He said something about being surprised we had caught him then mentioned he probably hadn’t eaten enough. He looked confused and pale and his eyes were almost rolling in their sockets. I offered him a GU which he accepted and then I was off the front, hammering to put some distance between us.

I don’t know who this guy is, but he sure is having fun!

I was ahead of the Girls, Sam and Dr. Hodges. I was the first of my friends on the course – in my mind it became a Stage Win that I was after. I doubled-down on GUs and sucked at Perpetuem to keep myself from bonking and forced my legs to go harder. I spotted a rider ahead of me and made it my goal to catch him on the next hill. I did that and then spotted another rider and another.

I caught a rider just as we were leaving the Preserve and dirt trails for good. The only thing ahead of us was the 3 or 4 miles of pavement back to the Start/Finish line. We had to dismount to get through the gate and I made sure to use a cyclocross move to get going again faster than him. He said something like, “Well, I hope you’re good on the road” and I thought to myself, “Actually, yes, I rather do enjoy the pave…” I hammered it hard to keep a gap to him, but never really looked back either.

Completely wiped out, but very happy after the race.

My legs were searing, on the verge of cramping up. I was dead tired. Salt encrusted, sticky from GU and Perpetuem, I had been on the bike for NINE solid hours. I was scared shitless that a revived Sam would chase me down in these last miles so I kept the pressure on, not believing that I could stay away. And that’s when it hit me…

I absolutely love this shit.

I got pretty emotional at this point. After all the hard work, long hours and endless miles of training. All the energy and preparation, it was really worth it. I was doing something that was extraordinarily hard and I was doing it well.

I wiped the tears away and continued to hammer back to Julian. I finished the Julian Death March in 9:27:10 in 18th place overall, 7th place in my age group. Of the 80 riders who began the day, only 28 would finish the entire course.

Good night, Julian. Thanks for a great race!

When the shotgun goes off this Saturday morning signaling the start of the Leadville 100, I’ll roll out all alone in a sea of 1,500 other racers. I will pedal the fifty miles to the top of Columbine Mine and the fifty miles back all by myself. No one but me will push my bike up the Powerline. No one but me will turn those pedals over to get me to the finish line. It’s easy to think I’m in this alone, but really, that’s just an illusion.

I do not ride alone.

Karydes got the ball rolling way back in 2006 by inviting me to train for and ride our first century together, the MS 150. The team we organized for that ride (Team Climb On!) has raised over $50,000 in the fight against MS since then. Oh, and we completed the ride in style…

In 2007 alone, Team Climb On! raised over $22,000 for the National MS Society.

Dr. Hodges, Alpha Dave and the rest of the Mighty Descenders showed me what riding hard was really all about. Getting invited to their Monster Climbs trip in 2008 was a breakthrough experience. Suddenly, I could pedal all day, up mountains and down.

Horseshoe Meadow Road climbs 5,000 feet out of Lone Pine. Amazing.

The Mighty Descenders at Monster Climbs II

Marcos kicked it up a notch by suggesting that I race – “You should race, you’ll do great.” Suddenly it was all possible and we began cycling at a whole new level. Later he’d remark that we should, “Mix it up a bit to keep it fresh, maybe do some MTB rides.” That would be how I started MTB racing and entered my name into the 2009 Leadville lottery.

Marcos and Dr. Hodges racing the 2009 Julian Death March.

After winning last year’s Leadville lottery, I was terrified – what had I gotten myself into?!?! Having DMoz crew for me and Bazza and Daphne join me at the race made it all possible. Their support and encouragement sped me along my race and helped me finish strong. I’m very much looking forward to sharing this beautiful race with my wife and kids this year.

Bazza took this photo of me racing inbound on the new singletrack at last year’s Leadville 100.

Racing Julian Death March this year was crucial to my Leadville training plan. Riding alongside guys like Mickey, Dr. Hodges and Sam taught me what “Never quit!” really means. I’ll never forget watching Sam struggle against The Bonk without giving in and how Mickey finished his JDM within minutes of the final cutoff because he just wouldn’t quit – no matter what. I could not have done as well as I did without these guys.

Sam, Dr. Hodges, Mickey and I at this year’s Julian Death March. I’ll never forget this day!

Having training partners, nah… having Dirt Bros like Marcos, Mickey and Karydes have allowed me to take ultra-endurance cycling to a new level. Heading out into the pouring rain for a 40-mile MTB ride with 5,000 feet of climbing is a great way to get strong. I can always count on a hard ride and “never give up attitude” every weekend. The way we encourage each other to go hard and push our boundaries makes us all stronger.

The Dirt Bros make their way down a cold and snowy trail to climb the infamous Oriflamme Canyon.

Two of my Dirt Bros, Mickey and Marcos enjoying a recovery bevvie in Cuyamaca.

And of course, the Family… Always there, supporting me to ride countless hours even to the point of organizing our vacation calendar around cycling events. Putting up with stinky kit hanging from the banister and a sore, sleepy Dad every Saturday afternoon.

My Girls cheering me on!

When I finally roll back onto 6th Avenue, at mile 103.5 on Saturday, I’ll be thinking about all the people who helped make this day happen. Thank you.

The 2009 Leadville 100 gets underway on a shotgun blast. By Bazza.

I was on a solo breakaway suicide mission and didn’t care. I was maybe 2 minutes off the front of a twelve man chase group on the final day of our 2010 Monster Climbs trip to the high Sierras. There was really no reason for me to be out front, I was having a terrible weekend fitness-wise.

Friday’s ride up Onion Valley Road was fun and uneventful. Climbing 5,000 feet up the 5th best road climb in the US was very enjoyable. I pootled up alongside my friend MickeyGow, saving myself for Saturday’s Queen Stage.

Atop Onion Valley with my DirtBro MickeyGow

The wheels came off the bus on Saturday’s ride to Pine Creek. I started out feeling average, but instead of getting better as I warmed up, things got steadily worse until I was struggling to produce power going less than 5mph at around 45rpm. It was clear that I had fallen off the Razors Edge.

The Razor’s Edge is that narrow range of fitness where you are working hard enough to keep improving, but not so hard that you get overtired. I was obviously overtired and the more I pedaled, the deeper I dug myself. I bailed on the big climb for the day up Rock Creek (20 miles and 7,000ft) for some quiet poolside rest.

And that’s how I found myself just a little fresher than everyone else at the start of the final day, climbing 19 miles to Lake Sabrina. I knew they’d catch me; it was just a matter of time. Looking at my power meter it was clear I wasn’t producing much more power than the day before, the Descenders peloton was simply taking their time to reel me back in.

Here I’m using my camera to check how far back the chasers are without giving them the satisfaction of turning around. They were still a long ways back…

Ahead I saw a rider, pootling even slower than me. From a distance he looked very fit with good form, just moving very slowly. As I got closer, I could see his kit was Italian – meaning he was either authentically Italian or just a Wanna-be Guido. Then he stopped in the middle of the road and took a piss. Not in the bushes, or even on the gravel in the shoulder, but right there on the tarmac in the middle of the road. This convinced me he was truly Italian and probably from the southern end of that amazing country.

Passing the rider, I said “Buon giorno” and received an undecipherable reply. Looking at his face for the first time I realized who the rider must be. It was none other than Ivan Basso himself, probably on a recovery ride after winning the Giro d’Italia last month! I had just passed (neh, dropped!) one of the most legendary cyclists of our time! The only man to ever challenge Lance Armstrong in the high mountains. Basso was going off the back, unable to maintain my relentless pace.

Signore Basso attacking The Boss…

Don’t you love it how cycling uphill at high elevation makes you a bit batty in the head?

I continued on enjoying the beautiful scenery, watching pine trees replace the chapparel as I steadily made my way upward. I was caught by my team at some point and summarily dropped. Ivan was in the group chatting amicably with a few of my teammates. I supposed they were congratulating him on his Giro win and speculating his chances for beating Contador at le Tour next month.

A little later, my friend MickeyGow caught me up and together we rode the last four miles to Lake Sabrina. It was truly a great afternoon cycling among some of the most beautiful country California has to offer.

Three days of road bike Monster climbs along Highway 395 of the Eastern Sierras between Big Pine and Mammoth Lakes. This trip is designed for over-the-hill polka dot wanna-bees looking for good company, no cars, and upward tilting pavement. 20,000 feet of climbing on 4 goliaths in under 140 miles jammed into just 3 days.

“Monster Climbs”… Let that sink in for a minute. These are no ordinary hills; we’re talking massive Goliaths, rising up to the heavens thanks to the miracle to continental drift and plate tectonics. The 3rd Annual Descenders Monster Climbs trip is only a month away – Here’s a course preview.

Day 1 – Big Pine Canyon to Glacier Lodge

This is our warm up climb, ridden after driving 5 hours up Hwy 395 to Big Pine, California. John Summerson ranked this climb #30 in his authoritative The Complete Guide to Climbing (By Bike). With a profile similar to Alpe d’Huez (10 miles and 3,750 feet of climbing) it should do well as the weekend’s appetizer.

Wow, that’s a lot of time in the red zone!

Quiet roads along peaceful pasture. Photo courtesy NorthEastCycling.com

A peek at the Monster. Photo courtesy Tour of California Cycling Blog

Morning of Day 2 – Pine Creek to the old Tungsten Mine

Now for the main course. The first of two Monsters for the day, Pine Creek is a favorite of locals in the Mammoth cycling club and climbs from 4,500’ to almost 8,000’ in just 10 miles.

The flats through Round Valley. Photo courtesy BikeCal.com

Into the mouth of the Beast. Photo courtesy Tour of California Cycling Blog

Pine Creek Summit on a stormy day. Photo courtesy NorthEastCycling.com

Afternoon of Day 2 – Lower and Upper Rock Creek up Sherwin Grade

Now that our legs are warm from Pine Creek, it’s time to tackle Sherwin Grade, the first serious incline to be conquered when venturing into the Eastern Sierra. We will attack this 22-mile beast via Lower and Upper Rock Creek Road which becomes the highest paved road in California at 10,250’. After a short rest in the thin air, we’ll enjoy the 20-mile descent back to our motel in Bishop.

Pine Creek is really just a warm up for Rock Creek – and 90+ miles! It’s going to be a tough day.

Lower Rock Creek Road. Photo courtesy NorthEastCycling.com

Mosquito Flat. Photo courtesy Tour of California Cycling Blog

13,000 ft glaciers in the distance. Photo courtesy BikeCal.com

Lower Rock Creek. Photo courtesy NorthEastCycling.com

Upper Rock Creek. Photo courtesy BikeCal.com

Climbing Sherwin Grade. Photo courtesy BikeCal.com

Day 3 – South and Sabrina Lakes

If our legs are not completely cranked off by the morning of Day 3, we’ll head out for more. It’s over 20 miles of climbing to get to South Lake, with road gradient ranging from 4-11%. Luckily, we won’t descend all the way back down before taking on the final climb to Lake Sabrina, a beautiful alpine lake. It’s all downhill from there.

Those early sections of 11% are going to be tough on sore legs.

Climbing to South Lake. Photo courtesy BikeCal.com

The road to South Lake. Photo courtesy BikeCal.com

Are we there yet? Photo courtesy BikeCal.com

South Lake Summit. Photo courtesy NorthEastCycling.com

Beautiful South Lake. Photo courtesy Tour of California Cycling Blog

The finish area – it’s all downhill from here. Photo courtesy Steve’s Birthday Challenge

Cheers, can’t wait.

I’ve obviously borrowed some images from around the Internet. I am very grateful to the respective owners of these images and have done my best to provide proper attribution. If I’ve screwed something up, just contact me and I’ll fix it. Thanks!

The idea of spending the next 3 hours climbing the big hills of the Alpine Challenge all by myself was not particularly appealing, but that’s what I had ahead of me. I had been part of the 20-person lead group that hammered over the first climb of the day to create a safety zone for the long descent ahead. I stayed with the leaders as we rocketed the next 14 miles down, down, down – creating an altitude deficit we would have to pay back in spades.

The race exploded as the road turned up and the leaders decided it was time to distinguish themselves. I was about 15-20 places back, and all by myself. I was one of 13 Descenders racing (ok, riding!) the 2009 Alpine Challenge. It was very cool to be part of such a big group. We had riders ahead and behind. At the start line, we had lined up together and took the first two rows.

Speed. Photo © 2009 Barry Munson. All rights reserved.

Looking up the road, I could see some blue Descenders jerseys and the distinct pedaling style of Mike. They were not far and after pacing them for a while I could tell we were going about the same speed. Instead of spending the day alone, I decided to use a little gas to join them. Mike, Scott, Jeff and I became a group of four that would spend most of the day together.

Mike became our Captain on the road. He regulated our pace; steady tempo on the hills so we wouldn’t drop each other and fast pacelines on the descents to make up time on the leaders. A flick of his hand could mean, “Slow down just a touch to let someone rest a little”, or maybe “Hurry, hurry and pull through – get the paceline moving!” At one point, just as I was feeling tired and not looking forward to my next pull, he waved me out of rotation, sending me to the back to draft and rest. At the pee stop, he was full of, “Come on boys, let’s not stop for tea, time to GO!”

We gobbled up a few of the leaders along the way. One guy in an Ouch/Maxxis jersey took a terrific pull for us, which proved to be too much for Scott and Jeff. It was also too much for Ouch who faded over the top and Mike motioned to wait up for him since he’d worked so hard. We were just a few miles from the finish and my competitive juices were really starting to flow. On an incredibly steep highway overpass we dropped Ouch again and Mike said it was just us now so we hammered it. We traded very strong pulls a couple of times and then Mike started having difficulty keeping my wheel. I yelled encouragement to him and kept the hammer down as we sped the final mile. Mike stayed on and we finished strong together – I was really stoked cause my family was at the line, waving cowbells and cheering for riders.

Voris, Mike, Rick, Seba, Me and Sofia.

In the post ride analysis, Team Descenders took 8 of the top 20 spots, including first and third. Mike and I came in somewhere between 10th and 15th. What a kick-ass day on a bike – made all the better by riding with an awesome team.

Go Descenders!

Last Sunday, I was lucky enough to watch the Stage 8 of the Tour of California as they raced over Palomar Mountain, here in San Diego.

Levi, on Jens Voigt’s wheel, being LeviSTRONG.

We rode up Palomar the morning of and reveled in the spectacle that is a bike race. There was the Pope, the Antler Guy, some dude in sparkly-green shorts and a whole bunch more fanatics amid thousands of excited fans. We were cheered as we ascended the 21 switchbacks of South Grade road at a paltry 8mph average.

Lance is back and I couldn’t be happier!

The Descenders were smart and resourceful enough to have a truck parked on the final turn, about 250 meters from the KOM marker. We tailgated in style while the peloton suffered its way to us. Beer, brats, comfy chairs and all that crazy energy on the top of Mount Palomar – it was awesome.

Cheering the Autobus. I’m stoked at seeing Mark Cavendish, the fastest man on two wheels.

Finally, the boys arrived and we screamed by the side of the road with thousands of other fans. I waved my cow bell frantically at Levi, Andy, Dave, Frank, Jens, Christian and all the others. I almost lost my mind when Lance went by with George, Chechu and the others in the second group. We even cheered like mad for the Autobus, with Cav’s bright green sprint leader’s jersey.

It was a spectacular day. Thank you Tour of California – see you again next year!

Update – check out these great photos of the scene atop Palomar from Velonews

My friend Mark drove an hour east of San Diego just so he could stand in the freezing cold, rain and snow to get these pictures of us. He is the man! Thanks Mark!

Click on any photo to view a larger version.

This is the lead group on the first lap. There are three Descenders here and you can see Rick smiling. Everyone else is grimacing.

Here I am at the same spot. I’m struggling to maintain contact with Voris (in the clear poncho).

It was cool having Mark on the course, it really lifted my spirits and gave me another reason to leave it all on the road.

This is a great shot of an unknown rider in no-man’s land.

The lead group (with three Descenders on the front) beginning lap two climbing. Logan looks great here.

Me at the same spot, searching for my legs.

Trying to strike a pose for the cameraman – did it work?

Tucked and aerodynamic, just starting to feel better. This is when I realized I could start catching people.

I’m on the front of our chase group, climbing the last bits on La Posta Road. Dave (behind me) is getting ready to jump out and hammer downhill. Also, there’s Yellow-Jersey-Guy (Josh).

Big, wet, sloppy flakes – I love this photo of the four of us. I had no idea Blue-Jersey-Guy was back there.

I’ve always wanted to chuck a bottle like the pros. I don’t know why, just because it seemed cool.

Coming into the finish, I had nothing left for the sprint. Voris and Josh (Yellow-Jersey-Guy) duked it out for 20th and 21st, leaving me 22nd.

The end of my first road race. I’m proud of my results knowing that I gave it my all and left everything on the road.

Just as I was starting to feel good it started snowing. Big, wet, sloppy snowflakes coming down hard. Ok, now I’ll start from the beginning…

It was freezing-ass cold in Live Oak Springs today for my first road race. I raced the Cat 5(a) along with several Descenders; Voris, Mike, Rick, Drew and Logan. The plan was to let Rick, Drew and Logan go on up the road and win while Mike and Voris acted as my lieutenants, helping me get as good a result as possible.

According to the National Weather Service, coldness can be described (in order of temperature) as mild, cool, chilly, cold, brr!, butt-cold and freezing-ass cold. I am not making this up, go Google it. There’s also something in there about a witch’s bra, but this is a family blog so I left it out.

I have to stop here and tell you what an awesome feeling it is when two cyclists tell you that they are willing to work for your best result. It’s absolute gravy when they are cyclists of the stature of Mike and Voris. When I read Dave’s email telling me he wanted to be my lieutenant, I actually yelled out loud and did a funky dance which totally freaked out both my wife and the cat.

Descenders Team Headquarters – that tent came in really handy!

But, back to the action… We’ve all got on every stitch of cycling clothing possible and we’re still shivering at the start. At least it wasn’t raining really hard, right? I eyeballed the competition and they all looked really, really fit. Like, “I’ll have half a turkey sandwich cause I just raced 100 miles” fit. I was trying to identify at least a few guys I could beat to the finish line and was having a hard time. I guess only the really committed racers show up when it’s double-butt-cold and raining.

The race official declared the race on and out we rolled. Fifty meters later, on the first real turn, I hear a terrible clattering behind me. I was convinced someone had stacked, but I guess some guy went all random, swerving onto a heavily rutted shoulder, immediately flatting and then swerving back into the peloton. Well, there’s one guy I’m going to beat.

I found Voris’ wheel and glued myself to it. Dave watched our position and kept us out of the wind. I focused on being a jerk about not letting other riders onto Voris’ wheel. It was really a fairly tame pace as the group approached the big downhill, which was also very sedate, probably because of the water on the road and the fact that we were all still cold. The fun really started when we made the sharp right turn onto La Posta Road.

The road started going uphill and I was quickly above 95% HR trying to hang onto the lead group. Those guys are hella-strong. I held on for as long as I could but finally had to let them go on the second climb. Voris sat up and let them go too. I tried protesting, but he was determined to work for me. I felt like I was letting him and his hard work down. I set a reasonable pace (about 93% HR) and focused on ticking over the miles.

I set the pace on the hills so that I wouldn’t get dropped, but whenever the road turned flat or downhill, Dave would jump out and take all the wind, trying to gain time and letting me rest. He was awesome like that all day long. What a total stud.

Rolling through the finish area for the first lap I spot Mark on the shoulder with a humongous camera. He had driven all the way out here and was standing in the freezing cold to encourage me and take pictures. That really lifted my spirits. I was extra determined to give everything I had to live up to these guys’ contributions to me.

Voris took the lead again on the downhill of the second lap and put the hammer down. A little group started to form around us, with only Dave and one other guy willing to work. I sat safely in the back, chugging GU and drink in preparation for the climbing ahead. I was starting to feel just a little better.

We turned right onto La Posta again and there was Mark yelling and taking pictures. Now that I knew he was out there I tried to look really fast with a determined look on my face. I can’t wait to see how those pictures turn out!

I got gapped as the climbing started again. Voris was in the lead with a few riders and there was a group in the middle between us. Then my legs started to feel better and I caught one rider. Ha, there’s another guy I’m going to beat. Then I caught another guy. Mark was leapfrogging us on the course and as we passed him again, I went into this really cool looking tucked position – I was so stoked to have him out there rallying me on.

As we crested the second hill on La Posta, I caught up with the group Voris was in. I gave him the “Let’s go!” look and he came right out to break wind all the way to Hwy 80. We climbed the short ramp to Hwy 80 easily and then I decided to put whatever hammer I had left down. I was definitely riding in anger at this point. My goal was to drop all the bastards who had caught up with us on the downhill. My plan worked and soon it just Voris, me and Yellow-Jersey-Guy (aka: Josh – see the comments on this post). That’s when it started snowing, which was truly cool. The three of us rolled on in the snow with Voris on the front whenever the road went flattish or better.

I spotted Mark up the road again and decided to fulfill a lifelong dream. As we passed him, I chucked one of my half-full water bottles in his general direction. I have always wanted to chuck a water bottle in the middle of bike race, just like the pros. They don’t let you do it at these regional races because it’s littering. I figured that since Mark would pick up the bottle, I was golden. Anyways, I hope I get that bottle back someday!

We passed the 1km sign and I started thinking about how Dave and I were going to drop the Yellow-Jersey-Guy. That’s when we got passed by the leaders of one of the other categories. They run multiple categories on the same road at the same time, don’t ask me how they keep it straight. We thought about latching onto them, but that didn’t seem ethical, they were not our race.

With about 100m to go, Yellow-Jersey-Guy took off. I paused, then got out of the saddle to go after him and frankly, there was nothing there. Nada, nichts, nothing. I flopped back down onto the saddle and accepted it. I’ve written about Failure Versus Quitting and I have to tell you, this was definitely failure. Voris took off after Yellow-Jersey-Guy to preserve our team integrity so crossing the line for 20-whatever’th spot it was Voris, Yellow-Jersey-Guy, some other guy (where did he come from?), and me.

By the way, Drew and Rick got 2nd and 3rd (respectively) with Logan around 8th. What an awesome day for the team – nice work Descenders!

I don’t know what place I got since I still haven’t seen the official results. Once I see them, I will share. Also, I can’t wait to check out Mark’s photos and hopefully he’ll let me post some of the better ones here.

All told, it was a fantastic day, made even better by the efforts of Voris, Mark and Mike. Thanks guys!

Voris and Mike in the snow, aren’t they cute?

Yesterday was my final group ride before Boulevard, my first USCF road race. The plan was a coastal pootle to Oceanside Harbor and eleven mighty Descenders showed up for the ride.

The Mighty Descenders at Oceanside Harbor.

I was under strict orders from Alpha not to push too hard – with the race less than a week away, it’s time to recover and let my body peak. No problem, I was looking forward to going for town signs.

Being the first to each town sign is a little game I discovered riding with Mark and while I’m certainly no sprinter, I’m competitive and find the game extremely fun. The Descenders don’t seem to share my passion though, so I often find myself sprinting alone. Such was the case yesterday. The interesting part (to me at least) is that I still keep jumping for every sign, knowing that no one else cares. The good news was that I didn’t have to jump very hard, which supported my goal of not pushing it.

The boys were excited about who would get to Oceanside Harbor first. I’d never been on this ride with them and wasn’t sure where the official line was. As we approached the Harbor area, the pace picked up. Mike and someone tried a cheeky move off the front, but that got chased down. As we turned into the Harbor parking lot, the pace clicked up even higher. There was a lot of motion within our little group as riders jockeyed for position. At one point, Rob tried to share the draft I was using and I shouldered him out joking, “This is my wheel, go find your own!” We laughed.

I tried asking where the line was, but couldn’t figure out the answer. So I just followed. We were zooming around the parking lot, with some traffic getting it the way and it was a bit hectic. I was probably four or five positions back when we rounded the final turn. I still had no idea where the line was when Jim and some others lit their turbos and launched. I sprinted too, but didn’t move up any. It seemed we were sprinting into a dead-end (with cars) so I sat up. Jim took the bragging rights. At least now I know where the line is.

We pootled home, with me jumping out every once in awhile to nab a sign that no one cared about. Hey guys, it’s really a fun game, a great way to spice up those boring coastal miles. Oh well, I went undefeated for signs.

Iwent back to the Boulevard Race course yesterday with Mark, Voris and Rick. The idea was to pootle the first lap as a preview and then race the second and third. We’re just two weeks away from the actual race and we all wanted to leave everything on the road.

I got more than just a great workout – I learned a little more about the difference between quitting and failure.

Three laps of the Boulevard Race course has a lot of bumps in it.

Lesson One

After rocketing west on Hwy 94, we make the turn north onto La Posta road and begin climbing. Voris wants me to learn how important it is to stay with a rider going over the top of a hill. His point is that two riders can go a lot faster downhill than one. So he picks up the pace on the last mile of 6-8% grade. I grit my teeth, dig deep and survive. I have resolved to keep his wheel or die trying.

Lesson Two

Voris attacks again on the second hill on La Posta. Again, I survive. I find it easier to stay with him by spinning higher than by mashing at a slower cadence.

Lesson Three

We’re climbing along Highway 80 back to Live Oak Springs and the faux finish line. Rick decided to test his legs and is gone up the road. Dave digs in again, again and again. I find it within me to keep his wheel. Sometimes he’s able to open a bike length, but not much more. I make the comment that he’s being cruel to me and his reply is that he’s training me.

Lesson Four

We’re on lap 3 now, back on that first climb on La Posta Road. Dave attacks and at first I’m ok. Then I start to waver, but struggle back. I’m really hurting. We come around a bend and the crest of the hill is farther than I thought so I momentarily sit up and let a gap form. I remember my commitment and continue to spin, now trying to close the gap. If he goes over the top first, he’ll gain lots of time on the descent.

Rick is with me, encouraging me, pacing me up. As we crest the hill, Rick is telling me to shift up, again and again. Then he takes the lead and we rocket back to Voris.

Did you notice that I let the gap form? I didn’t die, I gave up.

Lesson Five

On the steep ramp up to Hwy 80, Voris attacks hard. I follow and at first I feel really good. I’m mashing this big gear, almost passing Dave as we round the corner onto the highway. He sits and accelerates uphill; I sit and try to match. The pain in my legs is unbearable and I let another gap go.

Mentally, I’m a mess. I don’t want to lose, but I don’t want it to hurt anymore either. I can’t remember my commitment to stay with Voris and tell myself to just go my own pace. Rick comes up beside me and helps me through it. He paces me and talks me through it. He can see it clear as day – I gave up.

With Rick’s help, I held Dave to not much more than a minute and gained a little each time the road turned downhill since I had Rick to pull me. On the last steep section before the final right hand turn, Rick pointed out that Voris was struggling and encouraged me to push, push, push. I did, pushing right through the pain in my legs. After the turn, Dave sat up and we finished the last couple of downhill miles together.

In Conclusion

Giving up is a lot more common than failing. Understanding the difference gives you the power to choose. My thanks go to Rick and Voris for the education.