The last 30

A word of advice from the experienced. Never I repeat never, get dropped 80 miles into a 110 mile road race. With only one big climb left to ascend I suffered a bit from flat legs last saturday. The excellerations that were sure to come, came. I did not respond, but was able to keep the group close, at least until the top. At the point I thought I would be able to catch back on the big accellerations came leaving me for the long lonely ride home. When faced with abandonment or forging ahead, the stubborn continue. Since that discribes me I went head with my foot on the gas pedal. By this point the wind had changed to what seemed to be south easterly gusts. But, this could have been my imagination whihc was in overdrive. The first few rollers went by quickly after the feed, and I was still in a big gear when rolling up. But, after a dozen or so big ones, I began to dream of the KFC buffet and Tempur Pedic luxury. Wishing that my bike was a 12 lb super stead, and the temperature was soaring in the mid 70's..........I felt the road to the road home would never end. Once I managed to make my final turn towards Bradleyville, I thought I would give up the ghost, and began looking back hoping my pit crew was headed back to the finish this way. Could I catch some motor pacing? Another hand up? Would somebody tlak to me? As lonely as the raod became I managed to picture the rest of the course in my head. But, as soon as I could think of it my head would go blank, surrendering to the concentration necessary to climb the next roller. Closing in on the finish I notice the silouette of a Turin rider two or three rollers ahead of me which became my concentration. It must be aweful to be stranded in a place where there is no help. A deserted island, boundry waters or jungle. I can only imagine. I only hard the theme to Gilligan's Island in my head. There was Ginger or Mary Ann. As I looked back one more time I seemed to start to see things. Splotches of color seemed to suggest I had too much fun in college. It looked like there was a group coming up from behind me, but as soon as I looked back again they were gone. This happened a few times before I decided I was close enough to the finish to empty the tank. With what seemed to be the last two climbs in front of my I dropped the clutch. I guess I can't count because for the first time in my life there was only one climb left. And, the illusion of group behind me wasn't an illusion at all. A group came in a couple of minutes behind me. What a day. I was close to fading to black. In the end, I managed to push through on my own and finish not too far behind the group ahead. My outer body experience of the last 30 miles too me to new pain induced places. Time slowed to a crawl, and hunger reached all new levels only to level right back to reality once I finished.

Never get dropped with 30 to go in a 110 mile road race. Push through the flat with everything you have in the tank.