Men of the DBD,
As I sit here I have a
deep ache coursing through my legs. I may have pushed my tired, aging body too
far. I went into the Heck with a clear notion that I may slip back into
the pack. But, I vowed to take a crack at glory for as long as I was able. I
rode comfortably in the lead group of what seemed like half of the field to the
first off road section. Once at this section the sharp end of the race nailed it
with a fury that I could not match. I couldn't believe how hard they were
crushing the section. Needless to say, I was spit out the back, left to watch
them round the corner that was always just ahead of me.
I lost a bottle in the
first off road and then spent hours worrying about how I would eventually run
out of water. In the mean time, myself, Shawn Gort, and Dan Glisczinsk (both of
Duluth) joined into a fast moving rotation in an effort to close down the minute
and a half gap the lead group had put on us. We worked well together taking no
more than what seemed to be 15 second pulls. I could see that we were reeling
the lead group back in, but it was coming at a cost. Approximately 40 minutes of
hard pull after hard pull and we had them. I launched a final surge on Pequam
Lakes Rd. to make the final bridge to them. We had made it! The triumph of
making it back to the men who rode comfortably and securely in each other's draft
was short lived as we then entered the Brimson Trail with very little time to
recover from the "bridge up". Again the pace went to the moon and I found myself
slipping back as I just couldn't match the effort.
I hit the sharp U-turn
on the gravel after the Brimson Trail section only to have my front wheel wash
out. I quick stab of my right foot to the road sent my calf into a golf ball
size cramp. I watched my only chance at a re-connect (Scott Hippen) ride away
from me while I tried to get the muscle to release. I was now on my own.
In an effort to save
some semblance of honor I attempted to ratchet up the pace in the hopes that
maybe I would catch a straggler who had fallen of the lead pack. It was not to be. The
light switch that operates power in my legs had been turned off. Maybe it was
the 20,000 feet of climbing a few weeks back in Colorado. Maybe it was the long
hard season of 10 plus endurance races. Maybe it was just that I couldn't keep
up.
I proceeded to ride
the next 50 miles alone. I kept a steady pace as I crushed internal organs over
miles of wash board. I tried to reflect on my year and tell myself that I'd done
well and that they all can't be GREAT.
The confusion I had
with the down power pole and the re-route was disheartening. I chose to spin
in easy from that point on telling myself that it was a beautiful day and a
beautiful ride. It was.
Thanks Jeremy, as
always...spectacular!
Now I rest.
Eki
4 comments:
With Honor!
Always good to have you in the field Eki!
Definitely nice to know I am not the only one who has rides go bad in the saddle. In fact, most of my group rides and races eventually turn into individual time trials. The modified Type A personality is almost forced out of me!
Good to see you and catch up with you! What a great weekend up in Duluth!!!
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