Rough Road 100

Another race, another opportunity to try and get it right. Isn’t that why we race? To test our bodies and minds. For the search of that elusive “no chain” feel? {I hate that saying btw, probably cause I’ve very rarely felt it. Or you know, I have, just on one of those coffee spins where you’re supposed to go easy. Which doesn’t count. I digress.}

Do we race because someone puts up a start and finish line, leaving the creative masterpiece up to the participants?

Racing is an art. A flow. A process. Disrupted. Messy. Sometimes beautiful. The finish, always rewarding.

This was my third year racing Rough Road 100k and by far my favorite yet. I had still yet to prove to myself that I’m fit, after the disaster that was my LandRun belly. Training has been more consistent than last season and all my geeky numbers were saying, “You’ll have a great race.” Now it was up to my mind, and my legs, to make it happen.

I’m not an artist, I’m a crafter. I can follow a pattern, deviate from the lines and create something I’m proud of. Same goes for riding. I’m not a professional, but an amateur. I am following a training plan, deviating when, you know, life happens, and I’m mostly proud of what my body has been able to accomplish.

Routine helps. I’ve done this race before. The pressure isn’t necessarily off, but it’s more relaxed. The drive over with Chuck and Larry is always a hoot. {How we end up missing a turn and dragging the entire caravan on a 95mph race to the race is unknown.} Pickup the number, ready the bike, find the bar with the nice bathroom. {Yes, there are 9 bars open before 8am in Morris, IL.} Get to the start grid, national anthem, and we’re off.

Normally I hate the bridge. And the right turn following. And the first hill. {all hills.} But this year was different. I felt good. My heart rate wasn’t spiking. I found some decent wheels and was minimizing the braking and accelerations, keeping tempo. The USAC category started before us, so I was probably not far enough up and the separation happened. I didn’t see it, otherwise I wouldn’t have let it go.

I burned a super big match, following 2 guys and a 3rd trailing, to try and bridge. We got so close. I couldn’t do it. Pulled the chutes, and resigned: I was in the chase group.

Now we were in a slight crosswind. And yet again, I’m coaching my entire group through echelon techniques. Palm to face. Every year. The group finally got it, two amazingly smooth perfect rotations before we made the right hand turn heading back north.

As much as I hate that, I love it. That southern section of the course, heading west, has the best gravel sectors. It really mixes the race up. You can put power down, and then recover on the paved sections. Work together. Or work against one another.

All was well. I was 1:28 into the race at the halfway point. Look down, chat with Larry, “Wow, we’re really moving!” This part has some pretty fun paved sections and super fast descents with sheriff support at the major intersections, so it’s fun to let it rip. Over the river and I’m still ok. I know what’s coming and I’m getting nervous. 2 major climbs. First one on gravel I manage to hang with the group. The second, a cement steepAF climb and I’m poorly positioned, in the back of the pack. Popped now off the back. Solo.

Forever solo. Headwinds. Climbs. Is it over yet?

Nope. 11 miles on an unpaved river trail with chopped up mini sticks as land mines. Used a couple wheels through this sector. And got passed by a couple fast groups. I had just taken a big pull and Nan {where have you been?!} passes me and my legs couldn’t respond. She played it smart. I would’ve been like, oh hi! Let’s work together! I never said I’m the smartest racer.

I could’ve backed off. Tossed in the towel. Strolled to the finish. But I kept the pedal down and worked hard trying to hold fast wheels.

Finished. 3:01. 49 minutes faster than last year, 24 minutes faster than 2017. And I felt way better after crossing that line. 3rd place in the open category, 4th overall. Okay, I’m fit.

The art of the race. I’m happy to have that one in my pocket, proud of what my body accomplished. Thankful for the opportunity as always. {Special thanks to Velosmith for all the bike support and the day off. My team – The Meteor // Intelligentsia. And of course, my biggest fan, Kyle}

Off to Barry Roubaix psycho killer this weekend!

Nutrition: I had 2 bottles of Gatorade endurance, and 3 Clif gels during the race. I opted to leave the Camelbak in the car, as I didn’t think it’d be hot enough to bother. I immediately downed 2 bottles of water at the finish line, so that was a gamble that paid off, even if it wasn’t smart. Started the day with oatmeal, banana, Clif bar, doughnut, and a half cup of coffee and preloaded the hydration with 2 bottles in the car ride there.