Motivation to Train: Killington Stage Race, Day 3
Preface
Days 1 and 2 have been fun, but have definitely established that I am one of the weakest in the field. I was dropped on the first hill in Day 1’s circuit race, and placed 52 out of 56 in the time trial on Day 2. Granted, I had no aero equipment… but still.
Day 3
61 mile road race, 3,000+ feet of climbing. Goal: do not get dropped at the first hill.
Roll out from staging. 15 mph, I can do this. Started near the back of the pack, but weaving my way through towards the front. OH SHIT someone’s chain came out and I almost hit them. OK, keep your cool. Here comes the first hill. Middle of the pack. Cross-chain. Trim the front derailleur. Shit, why is everyone going faster than me. Get out of the saddle. Shift to 36. Shitshitshit how the hell did I get to the back of the pack —
Dropped. Like a rock. The pack is pulling away, slowly, painfully. Nothing I can do.
Downhill. Heavyset RPI rider blasts past from behind. He screams, “COME ON BUDDY, GET ON MY WHEEL.” Draft. Conserve energy. Maximal energy efficiency on downhill slipstream, thanks Nate for that info, thank you time trial practice. Caught a group of four. Paceline. Thirty second pulls. Why are you going off the front, Stampede? OK. Conserve energy. Foot from his wheel. For chrisssake don’t stop pedaling or I’m going to crash into you.
The next climb. Second wheel, good position. Shift down. Shift again. Shift aga— oh, hello, 36/28. Shit, this looks harder than I expected. Grind, get out of the saddle. Passed. An encouraging pat on the back. Sympathy. Passed passed passedpassedpassed —
Dropped. Again. Fuck.
Time trial on the downhill. Conserve energy, get low, get in the drops. So sweaty, so much pain. Glance at the computer — the race isn’t even half over yet. Is there anyone out there in my field?
A siren. Women’s 1/2 field is catching me. “Go, Katie, go!” Feed zone. “ALI!” Inwardly: “HELP!” Grab the bottle. Drink. Pour on neck. Keep going. Oh look, there’s Yuri in a group of 3, she’s been dropped too. Downhill. Chase. Keep pace. Gravel. Shade. Thank god. What’s that up ahead? Around a corner, a lone figure in white. Chase, chase. Don’t brake on the downhill, corner hard, chase more, and I’m with him.
Slow down. 17mph. Taking pulls. We talk a bit. His name’s Craig, he’s been racing for a while, but is coming off an injury. Like me. 20 miles of companionship. Passing stragglers, getting passed by stragglers. Empty gels on the side of the road are the only testament to being on course. Nearing Skyeship base camp. “I don’t think I can go on any further, you go ahead.” It was nice meeting you, Craig. There’s nothing like the companionship of a fellow dropped rider.
The final climb. 1,500 feet of stiff gradient. I’ve been conserving energy as much as possible for this. Just finish the damn thing. Here we go. 36/28 immediately. Putting my back into it. Oh god, so much pain. Get out of the saddle for a particularly stiff gradient. Am I even moving anywhere? Should I just get out and push? Here comes the Women’s 3/4 field. Guess I should keep going. 5K to go. GRIND. PAIN. Oh shit, that was for the KOM, there’s still another 5K to go after that. A small piece of me dies. One by one, the women’s 3/4 field pulls away from me.
Pass our condo. Where’s the end? I just want to finish and lie down in the shade. Scream down one more downhill, then it’s a stiff gradient to the end. 500 meters to go. Each pedal stroke hurts. Yells of encouragement from Steven and Zach, from bystanders. “Come on, this is what you trained for! Everything you got!” My mind is numb. There is only sunlight and pain and pedaling.
Finally! Over the line. I practically collapse. Thanks for the bottle of water, Zach.
Place: 46 out of 56 starters.
Thanks to the whole MIT Cycling team for awesome cameraderie, great home-cooked dinners, lots of cycling-related tips and tricks, and for convincing me to do this race which I had no business entering. Especially congrats to the Zachs for their 7th and 8th places in the Cat 3 field.
