Light & Creamy

Summer doesn't officially begin until June 21st, but the heat indicator does at least qualify us to enter ice cream season! Oh yeah. I haven't been as faithful to my non-ice cream diet lately, not that I ever have, but I am inspired these last few days to consider letting go of my frozen favorites. What's even worse is that I've added to my freezer menu - Fun Pops! Kroger has had the thin long colorful popsicles on sale by the bunches, and all I'll say is I don't have room for ice cream in my freezer. I've got to figure out a way to keep them frozen and have them for finishers at the criterium race series.

The "light & creamy" reference comes from Purity Dairy's catch phrase for the light Moose Tracks ice cream. It's a weakness, oh, which reminds me of a story. Awhile back I ride my bike down the street to the local Baskin-Robbins for their "two for" special, which means I end up with one more quart than I should. This time I held back and only got one quart, and the sales girl put the frozen delight in a paper bag. I then took off for my 1.5 mile ride home. I'm cruising down the sidewalk and hit a few usual bumps along the way, but didn't notice anything unusual.

I get home and as I'm just about to open my door I think, "wow, this bag isn't heavy at all." As I'm thinking that I put my hand under the bag of ice cream to hold only to notice the bottom of the bag had busted open! Whoa, there's a quart of heaven somewhere along my route. Oh yes, I rode backwards to sniff out my lost quart. In my heart I figured I had lost it for good considering most of my path was alongside McGavock Pike, a busy road through the Donelson area. I ride for about a half-mile and there it was on the road up against the sidewalk gutter. Here I am, all alone, and I'm screaming out "yes!"

I pick it up and notice that the cardboard is scraped up a bit, but there was zero, I repeat zero, ice cream oozing out or cracked through. Oh, it was totally edible. I rode home happier the second time than I did the first and proceeded to put a hurtin' on it.

Anyway, that's my story, but back to why that moment and others have haunted me the last few days.....

Last Saturday we were at the Settlers Life Omnium in Elizabethton racing the Roan Groan Road Race. The Pro1/2/3 race had a good size field of about 60 to 70 riders. We start out down the road riding very casual with everyone talking and catching up. I found myself on the front talking with Luke Winger, a former Lees-McRae rider I hadn't seen last fall. We talk for awhile and run out of things to say, but we look back and see that we've unintentionally rode away (slowly!) from the group. We look at each other and agree to make ourselves look as though we aren't riding angry and keep the effort steady. A minute later another rider from Industry Nine bridges up and says, "guys, they are riding very slow back there." Bingo!

Us three guys begin working a little harder but still not killing ourselves. Occasionally we look back and still don't see any reaction. Well it wasn't long before we get out onto the tough loop and begin really working together more intensely. About 40 minutes into the race the moto official comes up and says we have about three minutes on the pack. Ok, this is good, so let's keep motoring. We know at that point it's make or break because the pack can decide to start drilling it and pull us back pretty quickly. We keep our effort steady and keep wondering if the pack is ever going to reach us. The 55 mile race finishes on an 8 mile climb up Roan Mountain, so we know the ending isn't the usual rolling course. If it had been the pack would never let us get much time.

We keep working and end up making it all the way to the base of the mountain without seeing anyone but the flashing blue lights of the THP leading us. I remember telling Jason who would have thought we'd make it that far. What we didn't know entering the mountain was exactly how much time we had on the pack. At no point did we ever see them behind us, but if you aren't given time checks you always think they're just around the corner. So every time you finish a pull and get back on the back you look back thinking "where are they?"

We began the last 10 miles together but it's at that point we all go at our own pace. Jason with Industry Nine was definitely the strongest all day and rolls away from us. I end up leaving Luke behind as we all three begin our mission to reach the top to finish 1-2-3. In case you're wondering climbing long distances is not my specialty. Shorter power climbs yes, but not long sustained climbs requiring a threshold effort for miles and miles. Earlier in the race the batteries in my PowerTap hub died which left me to gauge my effort based upon heart rate and perceived exertion. I've trained with power long enough that I'm very familiar with my efforts, so not having this gauge is probably a good thing. Sometimes those numbers can negatively affect you mentally if you're struggling to maintain an effort, but then again the opposite is true too. Today though I'd rather not know. I decided I wasn't going to kill myself and blow up within the first two miles trying to ride above my threshold, so instead I peg my heart rate within a 4 beat range and get after it. Occasionally I'd stand for 20 to 25 pedal strokes but I'd sit back down to ensure I didn't blow up.

I'm riding along and reach the 6 miles to go mark, and it's at this point I'm beginning to think the unthinkable could happen. Me finishing second in this road race, no way?! I keep going and reach 5 miles to go and then 4 miles to go, and it's at that point I pass a lot of people sitting alongside the road who are cheering everybody on. If only the whole mountain was filled with people maybe their excitement and energy would propel me up the mountain faster! Ok, so now I'm only 4 miles away from arguably my best finish ever considering the course difficulty. Every now and then I look back and I can see Luke in the distance, but no other riders charging up.

Everyone at some point in their racing should experience being in the position of a true potential winning breakaway. Each opportunity presents the mind and body with a unique experience, and the thoughts that go through your mind aren't ever the same. On this day, for me, all I could think of was, "nobody is going to believe me if I call them and say I got 2nd at Roan Groan!" I too was in a bit of disbelief, which looking back may have held me back from reaching my full potential output. Instead I should have been thinking, "I am getting 2nd today." Sowing the seeds of disbelief may or may not have contributed to my final result, but regardless it's a learning experience for the future.

Now I'm approaching the 3 miles to go markings on the road. It's at this time that my mental excitement is shot down by a huge dose of cold reality. As I'm going through a quiet shaded section I look back and see three riders flying up behind me. Eric Murphy, Scott Stewart and Brent Bookwalter were riding about twice as fast as I was, and all three guys are dancing on familiar territory. Scott and Brent were chasing Eric, and as Scott passes he asks me where the other guy was. My reply, "he's got almost 5 minutes on me", which was a true statement from an earlier time check I received. Scott's reply was something along the lines of, "uhhhgggg!" He and I both knew they weren't bridging 5 minutes within 3 miles on the leader.

Shortly after this I'm passed by a few other usual climbing specialists that I expected to see, and then it's re-evaluating the result to a possible top 10. I ride a couple more miles and a few more single riders come by, and then it's knocking me down to a possible top 20. This result is still about 30 to 35 places better than what I'm accustomed, so I'm beginning to put the effort into perspective. Within the last mile I've had enough of riders picking me off at the end and decide enough is enough. I pick up my pace a little and as I'm approaching the final 500 meters I look back to see another group of three riders approaching me. Nope, you guys aren't getting me. Funnily enough one of those three is a teammate, and in order to rag on him the rest of the season I am even more determined to beat them all to the line. I treat the last 200 meters as a sprint and go as hard as I can go.

I crossed the line in 20th place.

I finished among a lot of really good climbers, but it wasn't until afterwards I was told that our breakaway had over 10 minutes on the pack when we started the climb. 10 minutes!!! I lost over 10 minutes?!?! What tha', grrrrr......Jason with Industry Nine did stay away and took the victory. I take some comfort in knowing at least one of my breakaway companions took home the top prize, and Jason was quite grateful for all our work throughout the day.

Which brings me back to ice cream. Had I spooned out much less over the last three months maybe, just maybe I'd be a few pounds lighter. Maybe, just maybe gravity is a little kinder up Roan Mountain. Maybe, just maybe my power to weight ratio is higher.

Maybe, just maybe I should have left that quart of Baskin-Robbins on McGavock Pike.