HHH recap

Looking back at this year, most of my cycling rally events have come on the heals of a major medical issue. And each one, i crawled through the 100k, and i suffered through each one. Each one i said "damn, that was the toughest ride i've done this year".

This year's Hotter than Hell Hundred, which is in my home town, and home rally, fell on the three month anniversary of my worst bike fall to date.  If you remember, on Memorial weekend, i was cruising down North West Highway, through the construction the city of Dallas has deemed safe for cyclists, and hit a weird pothole next to a manhole cover. I broke my pelvis in three places, ruining all my, and my boyfriend's, cycling plans for the summer. The doc said i wouldnt be able to ride until October.

Fast Forward to the last weekend in August. Doc approved me to ride again. Not easy, and not painless, but im there at the HHH.

THE PLAN: My "first plan" was to ride my city bike 25 miles.  "The plan" graduated to my road bike and a 50 miler, but if, and only if, i was doing fine at the 10 mile cut off. Once i got to the HHH, and went with Ramsey to the Pace Group booth, we decided for me to start w/ the Pace Group, since he already ponied up the dough for it.  I have to admit, it was pretty cool getting my full kit and bib number. Then I would turn off at the appropriate mileage and pick back up around mile 80 to ride with the group on the way in, on the southern route. Ramsey would be domestique for the team the whole way.

One thing i have to point out here. Girls and Bib Shorts. Short rides, ok fine. But for a long ride..ugh!  Think about this...we can't just yank down bib shorts to pee. Try balancing on look cleats in a slippery porta john and having to disrobe to relieve yourself! Needless to say, this really stressed me out.  (Esp when the pace group leader said they'd only have 3 mins to pee). 

Any girls out there wanna chime in on this? Do so ..now!

I had to practice pulling off half my jersey and yanking down one shoulder. TMI, you say? Damn straight.  But this is a challenge that no man wants to talk about, and possibly the women cyclists feel embarrrased to ask about.  The result..NO EASY WAY on this one.

But it's too late. I've committed to the bib short and the pace group lead out.

i don't sleep the night before. We decided instead of riding to the start, parking the car at the local bike shop.  The TCC is an awesome shop, and i give them as much business as i can. 
THE PLUG :If you're in the Falls, give them a shout! They're great guys.

As soon as we stepped outside, i knew i was in for a world of hurt..windy and cool!  Not my best cycling weather. i like it dry, still and hot. Hell, im on a bike, i can make my own wind. But not just any wind..sustained wind of 20mph, with gusts past 30.

IF you've never ridden in the HHH, you can't really comprehend  those roads in the falls,  that ugly, fresh chipseal and inescapable, on tethered wind, is just plain rude.

It comes screaming across oil fields and big open highways, and kicks your ass in ways you never thought possible.

THE RIDE: The Pace Group gets up front corral at the start, and gather before the gun goes off to leave. I thought i would like this idea, but you don't get a timing chip, and you miss all the fun at the start. This includes the military fly over and singing the national anthem. I admit, that brings tears to my eyes to see 14k cyclists singing this as the sun rises. But, i've noticed alot my rider friends don't care about that stuff...

We leave out of the gate..22+mph.  It was too dark for my brand new Oakely sunglasses, so i stuffed them in my back pocket.  The pace group is fine, and im trying to make sure i am not a cause of anything bad.   I was surprised at my apphrehension. I'd ridden lots of pace lines, but this was the first since the accident.

At mile 3, before i could get too worried about it, I hear a clunk and someone yells sunglasses. Yep, that was me.  My brand new Oakleys bouncing on the ground under the wheels of about 100 fast riders.

One week before this event, i had to have another corneal surgery on my right eye to remove, for the third time, that damn growth.  Riding w/o sunglasses wasn't an option. Plus, i hadn't even paid for these yet so neither was leaving them on the road.

I pull myself out of the line and retrace our route to find them in the road, a little banged up, a few tiny scratches and slightly bent out of shape. i snatched em back up, jumped back on my bike and took off at a much slower pace.  Starting early def had it's privileges! Any later, and those glasses would have been crushed under a shitload of wheels!

The wind was already a factor, as this point it's a cross wind.  i caught a wheel and sort of spaced out, making sure i dodged the pitfalls of riders who can't pace.  We make the 10 mile turn. After another 4 miles, i realized my mistake.  I followed the wheel left, not right. Surprise! 100k route. (The "i should've had a V8 smack to the head)

I've never been known for my internal compass, and damnit if i didn't do my lack of direction some justice.

A very long time ago, a trainer once told me, that he anyone could read music, as long as you did it slow enough.  With that advice in mind, I decided that i could take lots of stops and gave my bod a chance to rest.  I made it to reststop 20 and ran into some great pals.  Then headed north. North! What a tail wind!

I FLEW! and that's how you do a tail wind.

But all this time on my mind sent my thoughts right to my dad.  My dad and i shared the HHH and cycling. He would volunteer every year at Wichita County's stop.  Last year i trained hard so i could make the stop he volunteered at. The team i was with stopped with me at the 50 for pictures and water stop. They all really loved my dad.  He passed away this late June.

So, here i am, out on my bike, in the open fields, alone.  Maybe too much time to reflect, but i wondered if he was watching me. Would he be proud or would he worry.  I miss him something terrible.

After some hidden tears, (great thing about cycling and crying, is anyone who sees, just thinks you're just working really hard!), i made it to the 30 stop and jumped off my bike for a quickie.  Unfortuntaely, this is the cross wind part of the ride. Man, was it brutal.  It took all of my efforts to keep my bike on the road. Luckily, a few riders spotted my pace group jersey and pulled along side me to chat.  At least it kept my mind off the wind, and the roads.

I made it to the 44 stop.  For the 100 milers , it would be the 80, the Wichita County stop. I dropped the bike, and ran into someone who knew my dad immediately. HE asked me where my dad was. I had to inform him of my dad's passing, and i thought he was going to take it harder than i did.  He gave me a big hug.  After a few tears, and a nice story on his part, i decided to cowgirl up and finish this ride.

I perfected my bib shorts pit stop, and fueled up.

As i was walking back thru the main tent, i heard a volunteer tell a rider, 16 more miles to go, 13 to the Sheppard Air Base.   16 miles through 35 gusty winds. I wouldn't lie if my heart didnt sink a little. I was tired. I took every supplement i had on me, even drops in the eyes, and set out. Timing would have it, here came the pace group.

The FINISH: The pace group flew past me so fast i had no chance of catching a wheel. They were about to leave on an alternate route, and i thought best to stay on the main supported one.   i was already sore and fatigued. I also wondered, as they passed, why Ramsey didn't yell HI at me.

Here i go, into the unrelenting, hard head wind. Hard wind. This is where the mental game comes in. I knew i could make it, but i knew this was going to hurt. And it did. At one point, i was in my lowest gear, spinning a cadence of 110 and going 7mph.   I tried catching wheels, but everyone was either crawling or going too fast. I was so far ahead of the main group, for no wind protection.

I limped my way 13 miles.  At one point, i asked Dad for a little help.  Suddenly, two dropped pacers swung by and yelled me to hop on a wheel.  I did my best and was grateful for the wind break for 2 miles.  But they sped up, and i just couldnt push my body to keep up, despite the burn and wind.

Suddenly, i had an angelic moment when i spied the turn off to Sheppard Base.
If you ever want to feel like a rockstar, go through the base. The planes are cool, of course, but the pledges are lined up and hi five you through the gauntlet. Talk about an adrenaline boost.  And snaps to those guys for standing out there all day to root us on. (maybe it's getting some guy out of KP duty...)

The last 3 miles are a beating.  My mind was over it. My butt was way over it. My legs were complaining.  Shut up legs.  I rounded the familiar corner and saw the end.   What i didn't see, was my old team, which i missed, or my dad's familiar face.  Bittersweet.  I also realized, NO Ramsey!

I was routed to the Pace Group's hospitality room which was air conditioned and full of soda's and beer. Bridgette, (who's rapidly becoming my new fav girl cycist), was there w a smile and motioned to sit next to her.  We exchanged stories and wondered where Ramsey was.  Then came his text.

He was detained with a cramped leg muscle and was dropped on the route.  I was instructed to wait and finally, he appeared.  A very sore Ramsey rolled to the car.  I was worried, but also very proud of him.  Here is a guy who's been training as a Tri, and not a group pacer, and yet burned himself out for the sake of the team.  What a trooper and champ that guy is, and an inspiration.

THE CONCLUSION:  This year was a lot harder than last year.  But it's these super hard rides that remind us that we're alive, and that's way better than the alternative. I'm on a bike, and i'm riding. That's all that matters.

Clear Skies!