Showing posts with label spring fling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spring fling. Show all posts

World's Shortest Race Report

First road race in the books!!!! Harder in some ways than I expected; easier in others.  Never even got ON the pack to get shaken; had to do the whole thing alone.  STILL, this was my fastest solo ride WITHOUT the luxury of aerobars and only 1 mph slower than my fastest ride EVER of this distance. 

Interesting lessons learned:
  1. A lot of recreational riders ride Trek, but a LOT of the racers ride Specialized.
  2. Need more bikes!  Wish I had a bike for road races and crits, and another one just for time trials and triathlons.
  3. Biggest rule of bike racing isn't STAY with pack, it's GET WITH PACK FROM THE BEGINNING!  When the start goes off, they GO LIKE BATS OUT OF HELL.
  4. Going to do a few road races before I attempt ANY crit.

Finally, BIGGEST lesson learned:

Cyclists go hard.
Harder than marathoners.
Harder than triathletes.

I want to be a cyclist when I grow up.

Next week I have a 5k.  My goal is to go like a cyclist.

More to follow later in the week, I am SURE.



Week in Song Lyrics is a Repeat: Breathe Caroline's I'm Only Getting Started

Caught up and I can't feel my hands

No need to chase
Can you relate?
Can you keep up the pace like you're dying for this?
.....
I'm only getting started
I won't blackout
(This time I've got nothing to waste)
Let's go a little harder
(I'm on fire)
I won't blackout
I'm on my way
I'm only getting started

2012 DeLand Spring Fling of Cycling Road Race: Pre-Race Report

Here I am, on the eve of my very first cycling race.  I am prepared as I will ever be; I even took the aerobars off Ruby so she will look like a real road bike and not a tri-bike. 

I have little idea of what to expect tomorrow, but I do know that I am going into this with rested legs and MORE endurance than I need, and a good tolerance for racing in the red (Remember, I'm Only Getting Started, Go Hard or Go Home, and Pain Cave?) My coach(es) (yes, I annoyed the hell out of my friend who has raced P1/2 for tips) told me specifically not to get too feisty with the attacking.

Road racing is different than anything I've ever done before.    You don't have to get up at ass'o'clock, for one thing: you don't even race until 8:30am, and that's only if you're racing Pro 1/2 and you're a man. Us Cat 3/4 ladies go at 11:30 and the Pro 1/2 ladies and Cat 4 men go out around 1. (Tell me THAT isn't awesome). Race fees are a good bit cheaper. You get to draft. You only do one sport. The races are considerably shorter (1-2 hours in most cases until you start getting Pro.) 

Road races are definitely not as popular as the other stuff I've done; I hardly know anyone doing this race, and many of the people I know doing it are way more experienced and even race on legit teams and the whole 9. It really is MY DAY. (With all the other crap flying around me, I could use a ME day.)

In any case, both coaches gave me the following advice.

Important Rule for Cycle Racing Virgins: Your first and most important objective is to have fun, followed by this: be safe and try not to get shaken from the pack.

Okie dokie.  Now we know what my goal is for tomorrow.


By now we know that racing (and life) don't always present us with the best of circumstances on the eve of a big event.  I'd like to be well-rested, massaged, and pumped.  But I don't feel good and I've had a hard training week.  I've spent the past month planning special events at work to try to shake up (and hopefully improve?) campus life. I'm trying to concentrate on the Fourth Discipline, I have major research deadlines, and am currently sifting through thousands of pieces of data as well as dozens of student assignments. (I'm surprised I'm even taking the time to write this, but if I didn't take a break for awhile, I'd probably suffer even further sanity loss.)

The funeral was way harder than I expected. I was severely depressed, and I am still recovering from what was my first real funk since before my thryoidectomy. My toe arthritis is acting up thanks to all the standing (especially in grass, in high heels) at the burial and wake. I am overwhelmed with the mental and emotional strain.

But I've done a marathon feeling like this before, and that lasted 5.5 hours; this is less than half that.  And tomorrow I don't have to be up at 3 or 4 a.m. like I do on a Marathon or Triathlon Eve.


Still, with all this going on, I found myself thinking how the hell did I get here?

The answer is that I got here, not just to the eve of my first road race, but into everything I've been doing the past few months, the fundraising, the knee-deep work and projects and research and special events - all of it - because I never stop challenging myself.   Yeah, maybe I am a bit overwhlemed.  And yeah, sometimes I bite off more than I can chew.  And (at least in the case of this road race) sometimes I may very well suck at something and wear myself out, but I will be able to rest soon enough.

I knew that cycling was my strength, and that I wanted to explore it more, and that I wanted to get even stronger.  And I kept saying some day I will do a century, some day I will be an A rider, some day I will do cycling races.  Some day, some day, some day.

Well, some day may never come.
I got a taste this week of the bitter reality that life really can end at any moment.  It doesn't matter if you're young, healthy, or cancer-free, or aging, frail, and brittle.  It can happen at any time, to anyone.  Knowing that, I feel like I owe it to myself to live outside my comfort zone.

I feel like we all owe it to ourselves to never, EVER stop challenging ourselves. In many cases, the challenge will be the hardest work you've ever imagined. But, whether you realize your plans or NOT, just making the effort will move you much farther along than you hiding yourself in familiarity. 

Life is too short to be stagnant. Reach out, branch out, way beyond your comfort zone, and see just how great you can be. I promise you this: you're capable of much more than you ever imagined.

I DO that

Have you been over to Infosack.com to read Heather's blog yet?  If you haven't, go now.  Her observations about parenting are funny and insightful.

Heather's youngest, Baby Dino (like all toddlers and infants) gets on a new kick every now and then where a particular phrase or group of expressions dominate each interaction with those around her.  Her latest has been stuck in my head for weeks: (sometimes out of nowhere), she will screw her face up into a wacky grin - complete with mischievous dimple - and announce boldly: "I do that!"

What, exactly, does she do?

No one yet knows.

If you ask her that question, the response will likely be: "I do it."  (Note:  the inflection, speed of delivery, and emphasis change every time (I DO that; *I* do that, I do THAT!!, IDOIT, Idothat, etc), but also note that she will never tell you what "that" is.)

Kids aren't for me, but they kick ass.  They really love life just like it is.  They don't have pre-formed notions.  They don't stress, they don't put on airs, and they don't sweat the petty things (although they do sometimes pet the sweaty things.  That's what soap and antibacterial gel are made for.)

So my focus right now is the bike, and next weekend is my first road race.  (Yes, that sound you just heard was me crapping my pants.  I am so not sure I'm ready, but the only way to start is to, well, start.)  This past week, I rode over 130 miles.  One of those rides was with the Seminole Cyclists (they do, in fact, build stronger riders - I'm proof).  When the president figured out that there was no "A" group,  he called for the "B" riders.  If you've known me long enough, you know I am definitely a "B" rider - nothing more. 

Well, unfortunately for MAJ, he didn't call for "B" riders, he called for "B PLUS" riders.

What difference does that little "+" add, you ask?  Several miles per hour.

So here I was, tooling along thinking, man these people are hauling ass; they must be sprinting.  I can't wait until they calm it back down to a "B" pace. 

Instead, they just kept getting faster. 

Between miles 10 and 15, they left me in the dust.  So, I did what I always do when left alone: hit the drops/aerobars and did work.  The other "B" group caught me on the last 3 or 4 miles of the 35+ mile ride. I'm not gonna lie: I had to work hard, and I was pooped around mile 30.  But what got me through the tough part of that ride, alone in the wind, was the sound of Baby Dino's voice in my head saying: I do it. 

Yeah, I did it.

Let's just put it this way: that 10-15 miles with them brought my average speed for the whole 48 miles, including my solo warmup/cooldown ride to and from the ride, up almost 2 miles per hour.

My kilometer swim in the middle of that ride was pretty challenging.  My legs were a little torched.  That which doesn't kill me can only make me stronger, right?

So I told Heather the next day how the ride crushed me, and about how I kept thinking I do that as I rode along alone, and I told her how nervous I am about the Spring Fling this weekend.  (I have a motto for every race, so I've decided that I do it is my official motto this weekend.)  I explained to Heather that road races are not like triathlons or marathons; you don't get a medal just for finishing, people can be tough, the courses can be tough, and EVERYONE sucks at it to begin with.

Her response was just about as awesome as her kid's: you just keep being awesome and those mean bitches can eat your dust.

I laughed, and then I thought to myself, "I do that."