Over the weekend, I rode my bike in a race called Barry-Roubaix. In many ways, it wasn't that different from a lot of races I've done. I started out with the best of intentions, getting some training in early on before quickly petering out and then trying to catch up in the last few weeks before the race. It's kind of my MO at this point.
I have never not started or not finished a race due to undertraining. I always find a way to slog through it. And while it takes a certain mental toughness (which I do give myself credit for) to complete a race you're clearly not ready for, it would definitely be better to have appropriately trained and feel prepared.
Considering how little I had trained, I was pretty pleased. I did not beat any speed records, but I did meet the goals I set out for myself:
- To finish in less than four hours
- To ride all of the hills (i.e., not have to get off and walk) except The Wall
- To ride the entire Sager Rd section of the race without getting off my bike
However, I couldn't help but reflect on the first time I did this race back in 2009. The race was much smaller then and so was the distance. But that was the race I dream about. For one day, I felt like a person who was truly racing, not just struggling to finish. Here's an excerpt from an old blog post describing my race that day:
Remarkably, though, I wasn't walking any of the hills. I was just plugging away at them, quite slowly. At some point, I realized I was actually passing people. Weird.
When we got back out onto the gravel roads, I increased my speed. Many people were walking the hills and I just slowly and steadily powered past them. I kept passing people. As I got near the beginning of the pack I was in (the beginner leaders were too far off to see), I passed a couple riders on hills and got passed back by them. I was going down the hills at pretty good clip, though, even those that seemed sketchy. I realized pretty early in the race that I was going to need all the momentum I could get to finish, so I had just better go down the hills as fast as I could stand to.
I blew by the aid station. I still felt pretty good. Finally, I passed the couple of riders in the second wave again. I did not want them to catch me, so I increased my speed and hoped that the race would be over before they caught me again. I began to widen the gap. When I hit the last couple of miles, which happened to be a paved stretch, I started really hauling ass (for me). I was really getting tired. My feet were hurting. But I just didn't want to quit and I didn't want to get passed, so I kept riding as hard as I could.
When I finally hit the finish line I felt a vast amount of relief. I also had a realization. So maybe I'm not an expert rider. I'm not even a sport rider. But I do have a killer instinct. For the first time in a race I actually dug as deep as I felt I could. I stopped thinking about just being able to finish and started looking for results.
I was really pleased with my performance. I ended up getting first in Beg. Women 35+. There were only two women in my class, but that didn't really bother me. I actually ended up beating all the beginner women (I think 5 total) and 18 beginner men. So that's what it feels like to actually race.
That day, I wasn't fast by any stretch of the imagination. I finished those 19 miles with an average speed of 10.9. But I felt fast and like I could conquer the world. This Fit by 50 journey is about getting that feeling back and keeping it around for a good long time.
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