file:///C:/Users/Tasha.Huebner/Desktop/google96fe44e4b6d98b3e.html

Thursday, June 19, 2008

The Horribly Hilly: Less Sucky than last year


Deanna and I start heading out towards Madison, Dodgeville, and the HHH on Friday afternoon, and as usual, when Deanna starts talking about TOMRV and the wind and how she spun up all the hills, zipping past these 2 guys who asked if she could tow them, I tune her out and go to my happy place of rainbows, Doberman puppies, and ice cream shoppes. Then, suddenly, a few words burst into my consciousness.

Deanna: “So anyway, after my 2 days of glorious victory conquering all those hills, I had my Ironman dream which just....”
Me: “Ironman dream? Was it like mine, where I went from swim to run and then realized I had forgotten to do the bike part?”
Deanna: “No, not like that. It was weird – I finished and somehow my medal was cutting into my neck and I couldn’t fix it so I went to the medical tent to have them take a look, and then I went and found my family so that we could celebrate, and then I went and got some pizza and stuffed myself, and then I went back out towards the course so that I could see you finis.....”
Me, interrupting: “HOLD it. Wait just a minute there. You’re telling me that you finish, wait in line to get medical assistance, search around and find your family in the melee, have a 3-course meal, and THEN go to find me still bumbling around out there on the course somewhere? So basically you’re saying that I finish what, 3 HOURS BEHIND YOU??”
Deanna: “Well, I am a super-fast swimmer...”
Me, kind of raising my voice at this point: “NOT 3 HOURS FASTER.”
Deanna: “.....and I’m so tiny and wee that I’ll just spin up all those hills...”
Me, gritting my teeth: “True that. And you’ll be even MORE tiny when I stuff your HEAD in your ASS! Besides, my own FAT ASS will be screaming past you on the DOWNHILLS, remember those??”
Deanna, undeterred: “...and I’ve improved my running so much that Nancy tells me I should just focus on maintaining...”
Me: “And did she suggest to you how you should run with both your KNEECAPS BROKEN??!”
Deanna: “Did it get dark all of a sudden here in the car?”
Me: “That’s just the mutinous dark stormcloud that suddenly formed over my head.”

Needless to say, this put a damper on conversation for a while. Yet soon there was a rally.

Deanna: “So how did Tri-Shark go? How did our CTC people do?”
Me: “Pretty good – let’s see, Bridget, Dan, and Carolyn placed in their age groups, Annette and this new girl Kathleen placed in Athena. That’s all I remember.”
Deanna: “That’s not bad.”
Me: “Yeah. I just wonder what it would take for me to win something in a race – somehow, I don’t think it’s going to happen.”
Deanna: “Well, you could race Athena.”
......

*BIG thanks to the people who picked Deanna up from the side of the road and gave her a ride the rest of the way to Dodgeville.

That night, after picking up our packets and my discovering that I was denied the gel flask that Deanna had in her goody bag (of course), we go to one of the 2 restaurants in Dodgeville that isn’t a chain. Actually, we went there by default, since we couldn’t find the other one. The fried walleye at Dan’s Bar and Grill was most excellent, and I can safely say that unlike last year, when myself and Larry/Curly went to the pasta restaurant in Mt. Horeb, here we were the only cyclists in the place. You could just tell.

The next morning after Deanna had eaten her bowl of twigs-and-berries and I had pancakes and got future ride info from the 2 women also partaking in the continental breakfast in the hotel, we head out to Blue Mounds....getting there just in time to have to wait for hundreds of cyclists to go by for the official start of the ride. Oops. Deanna bustles off, and I decide to wait for it to get a touch warmer, since it’s about 48 degrees still. After 20 minutes or so, however, I realize that I’ll be sitting in my car all day at this rate, so I too set off.

One of my “favorite” things about this ride is that the sadistic bastards who devised it did so in way so as to maximize torture and suffering. So, to get to the first aid station, there’s a long, steep PITA climb, which I distinctly remember walking last year. This year, I did not. Yay me. While grinding my way up, several of us get a chipper platitude from a guy going down the other way: “It’s a lot faster on the way down!” Now, normally I’d appreciate this kind of encouraging sentiment – heck, I say that kind of inane stuff to people all the time too – but today, I fixate on the fact that it’s kind of stating the obvious. Yeah, it’s called the laws of physics, bub, is what I’m really thinking. I am an evil person (hanging head in shame).

I see Deanna at the first aid station, but she soon darts off so that she can stay ahead of me. In the meantime, I decide that just for yucks, I’ll go to the tech guys and ask them to fill up my tires. I’m sure they’re fine, but it can’t hurt.

Tech Guy: “Okay, this should really help you go up and down those hills – you only had 55 pounds of pressure in your tires.”
Me: “Oh. Heh heh. I, umm, did that on purpose so that the second half of the ride seems all the easier.”

I’m not sure he bought that, but it sounded good. To me, at least. I press on, riding up hills I walked last year and feeling all smug and cocky - or at least a smidge better about myself than usual. But then I get to one particularly heinous one, where I discover that I can go 1.9 mph and still remain upright. I’m going at this poky pace past several cyclists who are screeching at a guy in the SAG wagon, something about how this is the 2nd time they’ve broken a chain and the last time it took an hour for a SAG wagon to show up – and soon after I pass them, I too get off and walk up the rest of the way, since indeed, a broken chain would suck and there’s a bit too much mashing going on here. Better safe than sorry. Though I have to shake my head at these people yelling at the poor SAG guy – this is what happens when you sign on to do rides in the middle of nowhere, folks. It takes a loooong time for the SAG folks to drive the course, so if something breaks down, walking will be involved. Suck it up.

Anyway. At the next rest stop, I see Deanna, who informs me that she’s been there a while, and takes off again. I take my time, finally meandering off, and in the final stretch, who should I see ahead of me, of all the bike rides in all the towns in all the world, but YCBG Matt, suffering along with the rest of us. We stop and chat, since we’re on that damn climb up to Blue Mounds that goes on for about 6 miles, and then I basically save YCBG Matt’s life by giving him one of my 2 water bottles, since his are both empty. Clearly, he is now indebted to me for life – who knows what could have happened in that final stretch if he had remained underhydrated? Though later when Deanna tells me that she gave Jason some electrolytes since he had none, I find it somewhat amusing that 2 guys who work in a bike shop and have every gel, pill, powder, etc. known to man literally at their fingertips would wind up a little, shall we say, under-supplied.

After I finish and have the mandatory Culver’s frozen custard cone, I go find my fellow CTCers, and wind up talking with Chad, who’s doing IMOO for the first time this year.

Chad: “I can’t believe you’re doing IMOO again! How do you manage? As it is, I have no social life – it’s one day after another of training, of riding the IMOO course, of riding it again, of doing loop after loop, it’s crazy!”
Me: “Well, I do have a flexible schedule – but isn’t it kind of early in the season to be doing that kind of volume? I try to not become a training recluse until at least mid-July.”
Chad: “And the costs! I go through about 5 cases of CarbBoom gels a week! Is there a secret someone hasn’t told me? How does anyone afford this?!”
Me, helpfully: “I do admit, I have somewhat of a radical approach. My secret is that I try to support the local economy by stopping at places such as convenience stores, gas stations, coffee shops, etc., for key fuel during my long rides. Oh sure, I sometimes take the Infinit and gels, but if there’s a stop handy, heck, I’d rather do that. After all, one of the fun things about doing those long rides is the opportunity to eat Cheez-its.”
Chad: “But how...”
Me, firmly: “It’s one of the keys to my obvious triathlon success – opportunistic eating. It’s called the Paleo diet – you should check it out. Great stuff.”

By the time he gets up to go, I think I have him sold on the logic of taking nothing with you on long rides except a fistful of singles. I’m sure victory awaits him too, as it has me. And I mull the idea of setting him up with Deanna, thinking of all the training they can do together. Hmm.

By now, Deanna has finished and she joins our merry little crew of exhausted people.

Deanna: “Hey guys, how’s it goin.....” (sees me) “Hey!! How’d you get here before me??” she shrieks.
Me: “I took one of my alternate routes, cut off a few miles before the last climbs. I’ve done the whole thing before – thus I didn’t feel compelled to hew to the standard, common route this year.”
Deanna: “How many miles did you do then?”
Me: “I have no idea, I kept forgetting to turn on my Garmin. Somewhat less than the course.”
Deanna: “I can’t believe you did fewer miles!! Did you walk up any hills? Did you walk up the last hill?”
Me: “Yes and yes – but I walked up fewer than last year, so that’s success in my book. How about you?”
Deanna: “I made it up EVERY hill, even the last one! I just spun up them all and....”

Doberman puppies......

No comments: