When does racing feel good

I've been racing on and off since I think '05, when with bunch of friends, we completed almost entire MASS series... Then in '06 I did 12 hours of Allamuchy endurance race solo. And last year SM100. Topped it off with a pathetic showing in Mohican 100 this year...

I liked the 12 hours of Allamuchy and last year's SM100 for the shere sense of accomplishment and personal achievement. But other than that, I did not particularly enjoy recing. I guess I'm not competetive enough. Most races turn into some longish, fastish ride, or into some masocistic survival-fests...

But not the Fair Hill Classic of MASS this year. On the 12th day of antibiotics treatment from Lyme disease, on the still new Ti bike I lined up in SS sport open class for the 22 niles of super fun flowy trails.

I took it easy from the start, letting most of the group spring ahead for the turn into the woods. One guy managed, what looked like, a pretty nasty OTB on the dirt road inthe field before we even hit the trail. Few guys got hung up and slowed down on the first slight incline in the woods. So I had a chance to pick few guys off and start looking ahead to working my way up the field, as the front group of 5-6 riders separated from the field and disappeared in the distance.

I grabbed a wheel of a group of three riders, who kept a decent pace I could maintain without over exerting myself too quickly. We picked few more slower guys. Then one of them got dropped. For few miles it was three of us, cruising a nice fast pace, picking off occasional rider. Legs were feeling good, and I was enjoying the fast pace, and making mental notes when they had to stand up on short climbs while I was able to make the same climbs still seated without burning out my legs (see, here's the lack of competiveness, a real hard core racers would dig a little deeper, pass them right there and push harder) but I wanted to make sure I had enough to finish strong, I saw that their pace was good to keep slowly reeling in riders who went out too hard and were now slowing down, yet, I knew that I could kick it up a notch when the time came to pass them. Good times.

We came out to a long smooth gravel road gradual uphill, with I think another SSer not far ahead of us and couple of gearies. The front guy of my group picked up a smooth steady uphill pace, I followed, we dropped our third guy, and passed everyone who was in sight ahead of us. I thought about trying to pass him, but only managed to mark his pace without blowing up. All good.

For the next 10 or so miles it was just two of us, nice steady fast pace, passing occasional rider. Few times I led for short periods of time, but most of the time Holt, that was the guys name, was setting the pace. Few times on longer smoother down hills he'd open a gap on me but as soon as the trail would point a little up in the singletrack I'd quickly find myself on his wheel again.
There was one pretty steep climb. I was leading at the time, rounded the corner and saw the steep uphill, with few people walking way ahead, including some SS guy. I decided to save the legs a little and walk it, since it wasn't too long and I figured I'd gain more by saving the legs than loosing time by walking. Holt stayed on the bike and passed me. However, as soon as I was back on, I passed the other SSer, and few other gearies, and caught up to Holt. Within couple of miles there were 2-3 more climbs like that, this time I didn't see anyone walking, and the legs felt good, so I didn't have the temptation to walk, I stayed on the bike, glued to his back wheel (actually once I got too close in a techie section and buzzed his tire. :-) ) and we passed a bunch more people.

I started to think that we would come into the finish together like that. Felt strange. On one hand I'd love a strong sprint for the finish for an exciting end of the fun race, on the other hand, I felt thankful to him for setting such a good pace for so long and leading me, so I wouldn't want to pass him in the last few yards.

Miles were ticking off. The legs started feeling a bit tired, and fatigue with lack of electrolites started setting in. We came out to a gravel road thru the field. I usually can settle into a nice spin on the climbs like that and spin steady but hard, there were 2-3 SSers around us, I got by Holt and the rest of them, but as we were turning back into the woods, he was right there on my wheel again. All good, back to our 1-2 trading positions.

At this point I was trying to figure out where were we in the course mileage-wise. The water stations were setup every 5 miles, but for my life I couldn't figure out if we had passed 2 or 3 stations... Finally, we got to a water station, I asked the guy which one that was, he told me that there was just one more. Great, only 7 miles left. There was another tent just few yards down the road with few guys with water guns and cups splashing everyone, I set up on the bike rolled up to the hands free with my both arms up in the air to get maximum hit rate of the water guns! It felt great to cool down, and energized by the thought of nearing finish I passed Holt and couple of more riders along the way right there and kept pushing.

I expected him to catch up soon, but he never did, I learned after the finish that around that time he cramped up badly and had to slow down a lot, actually letting by 3 guys... :-(

From this point on I had to do my own pacing, and let me tell you, I'm not good at it. Pretty soon, I was starting very fatigued and I was afraid of falling off the pace. But I was glad to see that no SSers passed me. The entire race I was doing most of passing, with the exception of few really fast vet geared riders who started behind us.

Well, that's about it. Soon there was a course marshal who told me that there were only 3 miles left, which really lifted my spirits. Around the same point, I was closing in on another SSer, and at the sharp switch back turn there was another course marshal pointing the way, I thanked him for job well done, and I think the SSer heard me and thought I was in another class, because he pulled over to let me pass, but as soon as I did, I heard something that sounded like "oh darn, should've not done that" LOL

That was it, the signs for 2 miles and 1 mile, came quickly at that point. Some where between those two signs, a small group of faster gearies caught up to me, two passed me, and one or two were just behind. The two who passed me, couldn't pull away after the pass. And there was 1-2 other gearies whom we caught up to right within 2-300 yards of the finish.

I must've been high on endorphins, cos within 200 yards I decided to sprint and passed all of them, one withing only 2-3 bike legths of the finish line. Yeah, that was pointless and stupid, since they weren't even in my class, but it felt good! :-)

I must say, after this race, I can understand why people LOVE racing. If you're strong enough and have competetive strike in you, being able to push all the way to the finish, ride hard, see people ahead and reel them in and pass and keep the pace and the effort all the way to the finish line feels good. I don't think I ever had a race like that! Think this was my first race ever when I did not blow up at some point and did not shift into "survival mode" hating the life and not knowing who, where and why I was...

I hope this marks the end of the Lyme for this year and I upcoming Wilderness 101 will feel just as good.

Tho, 22 miles in 1:57 is a pretty slow pace for a 100 miler. At this pace without any stops it would translate into only 9 hour time. But I know there is no way in hell I'd manage this pace.