GHTA © 2006-2011
|
Tims' April 1st Ride
With the advent of the new
2006 cycling season, I was determined to make it my best year
ever. I felt what needed to be done was to set a record of some sort.
Not just a PR, but something that would stand the test of time:
something that would earn the respect of my fellow cyclists, both local
and world-wide. It had to be just the right event - not too
complicated, but obviously challenging enough to count for the record
books. My first idea was to set a new trans-continental record, but
realized it would take too long and too many hills and stuff. Then, I
thought about setting a new west/east record for Missouri, but once
again the length and the hills and stuff, made the idea dissolve.
Finally, after minutes of contemplating, I decided I would do what no
other cyclist in the free world had ever attempted: I would set a
record for the fastest west/east crossing of Livingston County.
Twenty-eight miles of the toughest ribbon of road North Missouri could
offer. Twenty eight miles of the toughest ribbon... I might be able to do it as a single day event. The hills alone have broken the best, but with the right training, I might be able to do it as a single-day event. I started a weeklong regime of preparing and training for the epic adventure. Not only did I have to get my body and mind in shape, I had to put together a crew that could meet my demands. They had to be a crew that could handle the rollercoaster of my emotions, pit stops, massages, bike repairs, food/drinks, and most of all, keep me motivated on the bike. If I could just stay on the bike most of the way and not have to walk up all the hills, I was sure a record could be set. I thought about renting an RV to keep everyone comfortable for the long haul, but in the end settled on using our 1994 Ford minivan as the support vehicle. Out of my arsenal of steeds, I chose my new Giant OCR-C2 to make the trip with me. My back-up bike was my red Schwinn. In addition to the cross training (consisting of walking), I knew I had to work on my base so I dedicated two days for back-to-back 10 milers that I nearly killed me. In hindsight, I knew better than to ramp up the mileage so quickly, but I thought I could handle it. After a few days of recovery, I felt well enough to get "back in the saddle." With a solid base built, I went on to do an interval workout consisting of one sprint down my street. With the tapering period coming up, I kept my sprints down the street to just one. By Friday night, I felt confident and ready. I loaded up with pasta and started hydrating. When Saturday morning came I woke up before the alarm went off. There was excitement in the air as I ate a bowl of oatmeal with Hammer Gel drizzled on top of it. While I was being driven to the start of the ride, I kept hydrating and eating Power Bars. The wind was out of the west and the traffic was light. Perfect conditions for a record attempt. I got my bike ready and backed up 40 yards from the start line so I could get a rolling start. There was excitement in the air as I ate a bowl of oatmeal with Hammer Gel drizzled on top of it I knew with so many competitive cyclists in the Green Hills Trail Association that there would soon be someone gunning for my new record. I figured every little bit would be needed if I was to hold the record until I retired from cycling. Luckily, it was downhill as I crossed the start line at the blistering speed of 17mph. Right away I backed off knowing that no one could sustain that pace for long. I settled into my steady pace of 8-10 MPH Unfortunately, due to my previous commitment of hydrating, I had to stop after three minutes to relieve myself. After that, I was underway once again, wind at my back. When I got to some serious rollers I rolled on down the hills and then started churning up the grind of the next hill. My sense of timing with shifting was flawless even as I got into granny-granny gear. Then once, again, I'd be flying down the next downhill. Believe it or not, there were downhills where I was able to shift out of the middle chainring into my rarely used BIG chainring. I felt nervous at that speed (20+mph), but I hung on for dear life! As I approached the halfway point near the Chillicothe exit, I had a decision to make. My original plan had been to stop, eat, and get my legs massaged before I undertook the last half. Maybe even slip in a quick power nap. My legs were starting to talk to me, but overall I was feeling pretty good. Did I really need to stop? If I didn't, would the last half be so tough that I would be forced to DNF? I decided to take the risk and rode right past my support crew. I got into a rhythm the next five miles and was feeling great. The county line was getting closer and closer with each pedal stroke. I was in the zone that those RAAM guys/gals talk about. I knew exactly how they felt. Then it happened: I bonked. Not resting and fueling up at the halfway point had caught up with me. Within a mile my speed was cut in half. I went from a cruising 10 MPH to a struggling 5MPH. My crew tried to feed me all the different types of food we had brought, but nothing sounded good. Luckily, my driver had been eating a creamed-filled doughnut and offered it to me. I swear nothing had ever tasted so good! After that, I could stomach more Power Gels, sports drinks and other solid food. Finally, I was ready for the final 5 mile home stretch. The east side of Livingston County plays a cruel joke on cyclists using eastbound Hwy 36. Just before you get to Wheeling, there is a monster climb that easily compares to the mountainous parts of that France Tour thing. My original plans were to walk it, but as I started to ascend the double-digit (5.5%) grade, I decided to go for it. Halfway up, my legs were screaming, but I didn't let up. I had long ago shifted into my granny-granny gear and was all out of gears. All I could do was keep up my steady spin of 25 pedal strokes/minute. My head was pounding as I finally crested the summit searching for the finish. It was another couple of miles to the finish, but I was determined. Finally, after hours on the bike, I saw the sign for the next county and I knew then I would make it. I crossed the line and collapsed into my crew's arms. Everyone was so emotional! What had started out as just as a dream had become reality. My official time for the 28-mile ordeal was 4 hours, 25 seconds. Part of me was disappointed I had just missed breaking the 4-hour mark, but I assured myself I had given it my all. I had to be content with my efforts. We loaded back up, drove back to Chillicothe, where I treated everyone to ice cream and then I simply went home and fell asleep.The next morning, I called the Ultra Marathon Cycling Association (UMCA) to tell them about my new Livingston County record. (They always want to know about this type of epic ride.) Maybe they would even come to Chillicothe to do an article on my record. At the time, I was really pumped up about the possibility of going pro and being sponsored. After I explained what I had done, the UMCA guy sounded confused and had me repeat the story. I did, including the part where I had a rolling start at the beginning. He kept asking me if someone was playing a prank on him. I assured myself I had given it my all. I had to be content with my efforts I assured him it was verifiable and it took place just like I was telling him. Finally, he said something about something not being sanctioned so he couldn't count it as a record. He did tell me to keep riding, but always make sure I wear my helmet. After I got off the phone, I was crushed. My big chance to be noticed was gone. No sponsorship. No official record. In the end, I think it was the rolling start that nullified my chances with UMCA. The UMCA guy didn't say that, but what else could it be? Next time I know to start at the start - no rolling starts. Records are meant to be broken, but it is my hope that my "unofficial" west/east record of Livingston County will stand the test of time. May it motivate other cyclists to test their own physical and mental boundaries. I know it did mine. Tim Riekena © 2006 |
