The year of 2020 has been an endless train of rescheduling, cancellations, and disappointment. That changed this past weekend when I rolled into Charlotte, MI for my first event of the year. I made the short trip of where I was camping in Olivet and arrived for packet pickup. Due to the corona restrictions the gang from FF had a nice plan developed.
I geared up and rode around the corner to registration. 3 people were there. I grabbed my bag and rolled back to the car. 5 minutes. I wasn't very nervous because my plan was always simply to finish. And that goal was put in place for multiple reasons (excuses) but I was signed up for the Fitty....or the 54 mile long course. And it was already hot....
I did a short warmup, because it was hot, and headed to the start area.
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This was the only dude that finished that I beat
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Social distance at the start line |
Finally it was time to get going. The wave I was in was projected to be the slowest. 14mph and under finishing times. I was in the right group. Dale said GO and off we went. I dropped in behind a few people and watched a few others ride away. We were hauling, but my heart rate was staying low so I just kept going. For the first few miles a group of 5 or so kept rubber banding apart and together. The descents would space us out, then we would regroup on the flats. And the hills, well...off the back I would go.
I was finally starting to settle in around 8 miles. It seemed like everyone did. I kept just riding my own race and felt pretty good. Then I was alone. The Speedy course turned off about 13 miles in and the majority of the riders went that direction. Smart choice.
I plugged away. The sun was getting hot and I was trying to find shade wherever I could. I was warm, but not feeling bad. 20 miles slipped past and I was comfortable. I was ahead of my desired average speed and I was just enjoying the ride.
At 30 miles that changed. What power I did have was no longer existent. And I don't mean I felt weak. I felt dead. I was forced to walk even the smaller hills. I would see the course marshalls jump up and head to the intersection only to disappoint them with a long wait while I struggled to make a tiny hill.
Then I saw the SAG vehicle. Mentally I wasn't ready to quit just yet. I was just walking the hills. So I talked to them a bit and kept going, with 13 miles to go. I passed a few more marshalls and stopped to take a drink of water from the bottle they handed me. A guy slowly approached up the hill and gave me a funny look. He blurts out "is there really 12 to go?!?!". I looked and sure enough it was about 12 to go. He got super flustered and said he must have missed a turn because he was already at 57 miles. He turned off somewhere....and I never saw him again.
So 12 to go. Cool. Only 12 miles. I just did what I could, but could feel myself sinking. I was was pushing what I could, but even the flats were getting super hard. An Amish couple with their horse and buggy passed me and slowly rolled away. I pressed on and actually caught them. I am fast downhill and the buggy was slower. So I slowed down and just rode behind them for a while. Eventually they turned off, but I am confident that if there was photographic evidence that it would have appeared that I was drafting off of a buggy.
10 to go.....holy cow is it hot....keep going.....
9 to go.....the SAG vehicle has to be here soon.....
8 to go.....this was stupid. I wasn't ready....
7 to go.....the road has to be downhill soon right.....
5 to go.....I can't.....why did I do this.....
4 to go....why has SAG not gotten here....
3 to go.....I gotta stop.
I roll to the side of road, 51 miles into a 54 mile race.....done. I found an area of shade being offered by a caring oak tree. Pulled off the side of the road and sat down in the dust. Broken. Defeated. Just done. My plan was to sit there until the SAG vehicle came to get me. Given all the factors I was surprised I made it this far. Lack of training. Lack of training in hills. Being over 280 pounds. The heat. 2020. Corona. I almost died a year ago..
They all added up to me sitting on the side of the road....blown up. Just absolutely done.
After a few minutes and a few other cars passing I see a rider approaching. He asked if I was ok and I told him yes, keep going. But as I sat there gazing into a field my mind came back to me. I asked myself if I was really going to catch a ride for 3 miles. No, thats stupid unless I am really dead. But after a 10 minute rest and calming session my breathing had balanced out.
I had 2 choices. I could sit there and hope for a SAG vehicle....or I could get off my ass and finish 3 more miles. I took a deep breath....stood up, dusted off....and got back on the bike. I turned the cranks faster than I had in 10 miles. Knowing I had 3 left was my only motivation. I finally made the last turn onto pavement and crested the hill where I could see the sweet victory of the finish line. I finished and felt a sense of relief. A sense of accomplishment. A sense of......victory.
No I didn't win the race. In fact, I was second to last. But that really doesn't matter. My goal was to finish, which I did. Against a lot of odds. I don't even know. I was wasted. Mentally and physically. But I was dug in and found that other level that people talk about. Digging deep. Pushing through. Whatever you want to call it, I found it. But I will tell you this much, its not a place I wanted to find myself. Empty, searching for answers. Done.
I got back to the car and cranked the AC. Loaded up my stuff and sat there in disbelief. I was in disbelief that I finished, and I was in disbelief about how I got to that spot on the side of the road 51 miles in. I don't know. I do know I had to stop. There was no question. But I don't know how I got back on and kept going.
But then again, that is what this event is all about. Proceeds from the Fast Fitty are donated to House of Promise in Lansing, MI. They are an organization that helps rehabilitate victims of sexual abuse or sex trafficking. They help people that are suffering get up...and continue towards the finish.