Is the New Bike Helping Me that Much?

Something about listening to John Coltrane and other jazz artists puts me in the mood to write. I was studying for one of my finals, but my mind began to wander. The ridiculously hard ride today adds to the ease at which my mind wanders, I usually don't feel so content sitting here doing nothing. Today I rode four fifteen minute lactate threshold intervals. I don't know how to explain them simply. My effort was just above my time trial effort meaning it is a hard effort. With three minutes in between each interval, I doubted my abilities to hold through another one. As I began to feel the pain build up in my legs, I would look at my reflection in the t.v. and smile at myself. I heard smiling during an effort psychologically takes some of the pain away. It did a little bit. I also thought back to Saturday when I rode a similar effort in a race.

The Marian race began in a warming sun for the first time in the collegiate season. Rolling up to the line late, after cruising around one of the parking lots, my stomach reminded me of some hidden nervousness. My tired legs from the long week of training contributed to this feeling adding no confidence. I saw a few of the guys watching and smiled trying to hide the nervousness that seems to build up each week before the race. Was I going to crash for a third time this season or was I going to waste my legs taking the wind in the front of the peloton, draining my energy for the final lap? Negativity dominated my conscious.

I looked down at my handle bars and was reminded that I was trying something new on race day; never a good thing to do. I did not have my power meter or heart rate monitor with me. With the heavy power tap wheel gone, I wondered if I would reap any reward for the few hundred gram advantage that the lighter wheels brought. One positive thought did surface. No technology would tell me how hard I would be working. I would be able to ride hard and truly listen to my body.

As the whistle blew, I took off speeding around the right side of the pack, battling for position. I was in the third position into the first turn. We wound around little streets of Marian College's campus, taking the shallow right curve carefully, coasting into the left hair pin turn. One rider almost knocked me down as he cut me off through the corner. Rounding into a straight away, I jumped out of my saddle as we neared the next left hand turn. I heard riders yelling "right side" as I accelerated past the pack to the right side of the road, taking the corner at a higher speed. I looked back after a few seconds to see riders chasing.

I let the effort go and let the pack catch back up to me. I felt like I wasted energy. "What am I doing," I began to ask myself. I knew I needed to save my legs in the pack for the end of the race.

As we made the next lap, the right hand curve came faster and I heard metal scrape against the pavement. I glanced under my right armpit to see the rider behind me, on the ground, sliding to the outside of the road. I had not even noticed that the three of us had established separation from the pack. Now it was only me and the rider in lead position. As I accelerated past him, I looked at him and demanded "Let's go."

I began to hammer around the corner as he paced behind me. We were ripping around corners at around 30mph trying to extend our pack separation. I looked back to see the pack chasing and thought that we would never make it. But we hammered hard.

We continued for many laps. He would pull in front for a while and when I felt rested or the speed to be to slow, I pulled out in front of him and took the lead. Every time we passed the start/finish line, other Michigan riders hollered the time gap we had on the peleton. I heard "Fifteen seconds," almost every lap.

At one point, the rider who crashed (after recovering on his free lap) took off beside us and joined the break away. As we passed a group of spectators, people yelled "You can't do that," and "Don't cheat, get out of the break." I felt bad for the guy, maybe he was in the break. The officials pulled him out of it as we passed the start/finish on the next lap. (see the picture to the left)

It had been about 20 minutes since we established separation. The rider infront of me started pulling at a slower speed and I feared we would be caught. Rounding the hairpin turn, I hammered our speed back up to where it originally was. I saw that he could not hang on and I instantaneously made the decision to keep going on without him. I wondered if it would be a mistake.

This time rounding the corner, I heard some of the Michigan guys at the start/finish yell, "Fifteen seconds." Was I slowing down? I began to worry that I may be caught. I took the corner extra wide and kept pedaling through it. My legs did not rest one bit. It felt as though I was in the middle of a never ending Lactate Threshold interval, like the intervals I talked about above.

Eventually it came down to three laps left. I heard the announcer say something like "he is devastating the field" and "look at the style of the rider." His comments pumped me up. Looking through the turn just past the announcer's booth, I kept catching a glimpse of Brendan Benson. He told me each time "Dig deep, you got it, fifteen seconds." I believed in his words and began to believe in myself.

As the last lap came, I began to feel a sense of relief mixed in with an exhilarating chill from the hypoglycemic state my body was in. The hard effort was depleting all of my sugar (energy) stores. One official hollered, "Take this lap easy."

I did. There was no way I was going to crash on the last lap. As I pedaled into the final straight away, I saw the big Michigan flag waving through the air. I sat up and felt a large smile take control of my face as I heard cheering and the announcer yelling something. A feeling of ecstasy over took my body as I rolled across the line. I finally did it.