|
Dave and I |
I completed my first ever Gran Fondo ride this weekend, to be more precise I did the Garrett County Gran Fondo Diabolical Double which is a bike ride that climbs 16,500 over 125 miles. I knew going in that this was not going to be an easy ride. Dave, who trained with me last year for Ironman Louisville, had done the ride before and convinced me to sign up with him this year. He told me on multiple occasions what a b!tch the hills on this ride are. Still, until you actually see some of these monsters for yourself, words just don’t do them justice. I wanted to do this ride ever since I heard about it last year from Dave - at least once. I don’t know exactly why other than it was a challenge that I wanted to overcome.
I had hoped to get in a number of rides on Virginia’s Skyline Drive to help me prepare for the ride. Skyline made me a much stronger rider last year, and I was convinced it would help me again this year. Alas, time was not on my side with all the races and travel I had going on this year, and I was only able to get out to Skyline once - the week before. A 110-mile training ride with Dave and a few others turned into just 80 miles for me as my body struggled to overcome jet lag (from Hawaii) and insomnia as I readjusted to the Eastern time zone. Add in a strenuous week of workouts consisting of a 11-mile run, over 60 miles of riding, over 3500 meters of swimming and some weight lifting. When we started the ride, my body was pretty tired and I did not have a strong ride for my one and only trip to Skyline.
After struggling on my training ride, I decided to take the week leading up to the Diabolical Double pretty easy, so I made sure to get plenty of sleep and moderated my workouts. I did 30 miles of riding on Tuesday and 1,000 meters of swimming on Thursday. Another challenge on my Skyline ride was nutrition, so I focused on this before and during the Diabolical Double. With aid stations every 18-25 miles along the ride with food and liquids, this was not to difficult.
The plan was to drive to Deep Creek the Friday before the Gran Fondo. I originally hoped to leave DC around 2 p.m. but didn’t get away until 5 p.m. Fortunately, traffic wasn’t too bad so I arrived in Deep Creek around 8 p.m. Packet Pickup and the free dinner were open until 9 p.m. so I met up with Dave and some other members of the DC Tri Club to grab our packets and some pasta, salad, and strawberry shortcake. While Dave and I were staying at Wisp, the other DC Tri Club members (Jason, Brent, Elaine, and Andy) were staying at a nearby cabin for their jaunt on the “Masochistic Metric”, a 62-mile ride climbing 8,000 feet.
After getting our gear ready for the following morning and watching some Olympic Trials on the television, Dave and I headed for bed so we could get up at 4:45 a.m. for the 6:50 a.m. mountain-top pre-briefing. We loaded up on coffee, powdered donuts, and Pringles for a calorie-rich breakfast.
For my nutrition on the bike, I decided to switch from my normal Gatorade to Accelerade sports drink. It’s one of those powders you mix in with water, so I could fill my water bottle and bring extra powder for later in the day. Overall, I think it did a pretty good job of keeping me going. I was using Fruit Punch flavor which doesn’t taste as good as the Gatorade but wasn’t horrid. I also packed a number of Stinger bars and a banana. I’ve decided to give up on Gels. They just don’t sit well with my stomach, so I have to work on finding suitable alternatives.
The weather for the day looked like it was going to be good. The morning started out a little foggy but the temps were decent starting out in the high 50’s to low 60’s and getting into the mid 80’s by later in the day. The sun was out with a mixture of clouds thrown in occasionally to give a break from the rays beating down at various points on the course.
While 1,200 people total were doing the Gran Fondo event this year (up from last year), only 50-100 people were crazy enough to do the 125-mile Diabolical Double. We were the first ones to start with the shorter rides starting in waves after us. By 7 a.m., we crazy few were lined up to begin the long day’s ride. After the National Anthem, we were off. The course starts off downhill for about a mile and a half which is nice, the downside (no pun intended) is this is the same hill you have to come up at the end to finish. Dave and I decided to stay together for the ride, although Dave is a little stronger rider than me so basically he was willing to ride at a slower pace to stay with me. We began our descent as people doing the shorter rides cheered us on while waiting for their wave to start.
A couple miles in, I heard a loud bang. I knew from past experience (see my Kinetic 70.3 race report) that someone had just gotten a flat - fortunately it wasn’t me. A short time later, Dave discovered his back tire was flat. He insisted it wasn’t his tire that made the loud bang, nonetheless he was in need of a new tube. We had made our way to the front of the pack by this point but soon would be passed by everyone as we made repairs. People were really nice though and kept asking if we needed any help as they rode by. Dave changed his tire but apparently had only packed one spare tube, not too big a deal though because I was carrying three. We got on the road and began to pass people again although we never really caught back up to the lead group again. The stretch between the start and the first aid station was about 18 miles. My plan for this ride was to take it one aid station at a time. I wasn’t going to dwell on the 125 miles rather I would focus on the next 18 miles. This seemed to be a pretty good mental strategy though it didn’t help that Dave kept telling me about the killer hills yet to come; he said he was trying to keep me motivated. The first 18 miles weren’t terribly bad. Certainly it had its share of hills but nothing I would call killer and of course we were still fresh at this point. As we rolled into the first aid station, the remains of that initial lead group were rolling out. This would be the last time we saw them. The first aid station was well stocked with food and drink as well as entertainment. They had a Hawaiian-type kettle band playing which was cool. Dave filled his tire up with real air from a pump opposed to the stuff in the C02 cartridges which never seem to last long and managed to snag a new spare. We both grabbed some grub and drink and refilled our water bottles before hitting the road for the next aid station.
Less than a mile out of aid station #1, we started riding with a group. One of the guys got too close to another rider, hit the back tire of the guy in front of him with his front tire, and took a bit of a tumble. The rest of us stopped to make sure he was alright (he was), but when I went to clip out I managed to pull the clip off my right shoe. So once again, Dave and I pulled off to the side of the road to make repairs, this time to my shoe.
By this time, riders from the 102-mile century length started passing us while we were sidelined. Once I got my shoe back in working order, we were back on the road and able to quickly catch up to those century riders. It was about at this point where we hit our first really big/long hill. Some people choose to walk up it, but Dave and I kept on riding and we caught back up with Diabolical Double riders by the time we reached our second aid station. This station was the last one serving all riders regardless of distance. From this point, the people doing the 40- and 60-mile rides would break off in a different direction. For those of us doing the 102- and 125-mile rides, we had our first major challenge ahead of us. The next stretch included “Bowman” and “Killer Miller.” Either of these hills would be a challenge on their own but having them in the same segment made this one of the toughest portions of the course. The only upside was at this point, I was still feeling pretty strong and fresh. Had this segment been at the end of the course, I am not sure I would have made it. Knowing what was ahead, I made sure to take in a fair number of calories. Peanuts, M&M’s, a PB&J and some orange slices were all consumed at this station. After refueling and a stop by the port-a-john, we were back on the road.
Shortly out of the aid station, Dave began to experience problems with his shoe clip. His didn’t come off like mine but it had become really loose, so we pulled off for our third round of repairs. Once back on the road, it didn’t take us very long to reach the first monster hill, Bowman. This thing seemed like it went on forever. Besides the fact that going up these big hills is just plain tiring, they also take forever to get up. Distances that normally take 20 minutes now take an hour, and your mind starts using the extra time to mess with you. You start asking yourself “Why are we doing this?” Of course when you pedaling up these things, it’s hard to come up with a good answer. It’s as much a mental game as it is a physical one when you do these things. Once you finally make it to the top, you start to remember why you’re out here at least until you get to the next hill. Once over Bowman, we had get some nice downhills and a little time to recover before taking on Killer Miller.
There is actually a cutoff time to arrive at aid station #3 if you plan to complete the whole 125 miles. We were well within that time limit, but we still had Miller to overcome. Dave yelled out to a group of people on the side of the road asking how far was it to “Killer Miller”. Their response - around the corner just 300 meters away. Oh great, so here it comes. Bowman had managed to make a few cracks in my mental barrier, but I wasn’t going to let Miller get me. After all, the next aid station was only a short distance beyond this monster. As we rounded the corner, there was actually a fork in the road and we started to go up the left side. Quickly realizing this was the wrong way, we back tracked and headed down the right side where a couple little girls riding their bikes in their driveway cheered us on.
I don’t think Miller was quite as steep as Bowman, but it was definitely long with minimal shade. Again, the hardest part of the slow trip up the hill is controlling the little voices in your head asking “Why, oh why are we doing this????” As we approached the top of Miller, we found a timing mat and a group of volunteers screaming “You did it, you’ve made it to the top!” which was music to my ears. Of course, I was still trying to tune out that little voice now saying “Great, but we aren’t even half way yet.” That’s when focus on the next aid station and not the miles left in the entire course is helpful. Fortunately, the next aid station was a short distance ahead.
As we rolled into aid station #3, we could see the course was starting to take its toll on people. This aid station marked the final bail out location for the course. If you decided you didn’t want to or couldn’t do the whole 102- or 125-mile distance, the race officials had mapped out a shorter, more direct route back to the finish line. Of course, people were available to drive riders back if they couldn’t continue or to offer aid in general, but this was a way to return under your own power and still cross the finish line. We still had to go up a pretty big hill as we left the aid station plus the monster hill at the finish line, so I figured we might as well keep moving forward (although there was a small part of me tempted to take the bail out route knowing I still had monster hills similar to Miller and Bowman ahead of me).
The next portion of the course between aid station 3 and 4 was would mark the longest distance between aid stations. Most of the aid stations were about 18 miles apart but the distance between these two was 26 miles. The upside was the absence of monster hills like Miller and Bowman on it. By no means it was a flat segment, no such thing on this ride, just not the killer hills like we had just done. What this segment did incorporate was about a mile and a half of course on a gravel road. The last time I did a ride that took me on a gravel road I ended up with a flat tire, so I wasn’t too thrilled with the prospect of taking my road bike off-roading but as Dave put it - it’s one of the many charms of the ride.
The ride up to the gravel road went smoothly and by the time we reached that spot on the course, we had started riding with another group of three riders. We all started down the gravel road which starts out going downhill. To my surprise, we rode past a pair of people standing on the side of this deserted gravel road playing their banjos. Since we were pretty close to the West Virginia border by this point, I couldn’t help the flashbacks to the movie Deliverance. I spent most of the downhill segment riding my brakes and trying to avoid any major bumps. Of course, one of the things you learn on these rides is what goes down inevitably goes back up so about halfway through the gravel portion we started going uphill. This wasn’t a Killer Miller type hill but t wasn’t a small hill either and the gravel made it that much more challenging. About half way up the hill, we started hitting softer dirt. Because I tend to lean forward with my weight on the front of my bike when going uphill, my back tire started spinning out more and more. It got to the point where I felt like I was going to fall over, so I opted to walk the rest the way up the hill. Dave and the other guys we were riding with managed to ride the whole way up and Dave waited for me at the top. It didn’t take me long to get to the top, as I was able to walk it almost as fast as I was able to ride it and once we got going again we were able to catch up to the other group fairly quickly.
The rest of this segment went by without too many issues and as we approached the fourth aid station, we entered a town which is home to the Westernport Wall, a very steep and pretty well known hill that is part of the Savageman Triathlon. You can actually ride up this hill for the Diabolical Double if you want but most people choose not to.... I thought about it for two seconds and then said Nah!!!!. For those not familiar with the Westernport Wall segment, it is not only a very steep hill but it also is on a horribly maintained segment of road with lots of potholes and such which cause a lot of people who try to go up it to fall over.
Once at the fourth aid station, we spent time resting, eating, drinking and trying to physch ourselves up for the next segment which was quite possibly the hardest segment of the entire course. On this segment , we headed out of town, crossed the border into West Virginia, and immediately start pedaling up. It’s not a super steep climb but it is long and continuous. Something like seven miles of just going uphill not to mention much of it is in the direct sun. After that, we had some ups and downs to about the 4-mile mark from the next aid station where we found another incredibly steep and long hill. We were so close to the aid station only to be foiled by this neverending hill that after each turn just seems to go on forever. On top of that, we were by no means fresh like when we took on Miller and Bowman. This hill really pushed me to my limits. At this point, Dave had broken away from me and I was on the course by myself. Finally when I got to the top of the hill, an officer sitting in a cop car was waiting to tell me the aid station was just down below in the next little town. It was all downhill. Thank god. As I got to the town, I didn’t see any sign of a aid station so I kept riding and began to start riding up a hill again. At first, I thought the cop had lied to me but I kept riding. I was to the point distance-wise where I should be seeing an aid station. At this point, another rider had caught up to me and was having similar thoughts. We kept riding for a bit longer. With still no aid station in sight, I decided to stop. The other guy kept going. I was faced with a dilemma. I could keep going up this hill and hope there was an aid station ahead, or I could go back down the hill to see if I already passed it. However if I hadn’t passed it then I would have to ride all the way up this hill again, which I REALLY didn’t want to have to do. I had just decided to head back down when I came upon another rider. I asked him if he had seen an aid station below, which he hadn’t. He tried to call his buddy who was ahead of him to ask him but only got a voicemail. By this time, the first rider who had ridden ahead came back after still not seeing any aid station. I decided to head back down the hill and the other two followed. As we got to the bottom of the hill, we discovered we had missed a turn arrow and were supposed to turn left. It’s a good thing we had all been desperate to find the aid station because the hill we had been riding up not only didn’t have an aid station, it wasn’t even part of the course.
After making the left turn, we were quickly at the fifth aid station and the 100-mile mark of the course. Dave was waiting for me there where he asked what took me so long. I explained having missed the turn and all. After resting for a bit and refueling, we started out to the final aid station of the course. This one was only 11 miles away. We started out going up a hill - not a monster hill but at this point any and all hills were taking their toll. My left knee was starting to bother me on the hills and I was just flat out tired both mentally and physically. I was starting to tell myself things like “I’ve already ridden over 100 miles on a super hard course. I can walk away and still be proud of my accomplishment, right?????” The 11-mile segment to the final aid station was wearing because it was constant up and down, but I was determined to get to the last aid station. Like the segment before, Dave had pulled out ahead and would wait for me at the aid station. About five miles out from the aid station, I was joined by a group of four riders. I think everyone was having similar thoughts to myself and that was “Where the hell is that aid station?” About one mile out, one of the guys ended up getting a flat but opted to ride it in to the aid station. We arrived at about 6:30 p.m. Dave was sitting there waiting for me along with a few other riders. This aid station not only had comfortable chairs but also had lots of ice and cold drinks which was really nice.
We were down to the final 14 miles of the course and most of it was actually fairly easy with rolling hills. The kicker was that nasty 1.5 mile stretch of uphill we started out on going down. Under normal circumstances, 11 miles would be nothing but we all knew that hill was waiting for us at the end and would do everything it could to try and stop us from crossing the finish line. The hotel we were staying at was even at the bottom of the hill, so there was the added temptation of just stopping and calling it a day. Dave wasn’t going to let me quit though, we had made it this far and we would get this 11 miles done together. He said we would ride the whole last segment together which we did. We started out and made our way down the road. Like I mentioned before, most of this segment was not bad at all so by around 7:10 p.m. we made it to that final hill. By this point, I was determined to finish the whole thing. I had played with the idea of bailing at the hotel (at this point, I could really care less about getting my finisher shirt and the free thing of French Fries) but by the time we got to the hill I was ready to beat it.
We began to ride up it and my knee started bothering me again, but I kept going. We made it past the Team Z cheering section, and my knee was really hurting. I looked down at my Garmin which was telling me I had already ridden over 125 miles thanks to that extra hill I rode up when I got lost, so I decided I was entitled to walk. I told Dave I would see him at the top and got off the bike and started to walk. It was really only a short distance before I arrived at a stop sign and a bit of a flat area in the hill. I didn’t really want to walk over the finish line, so I decided I would ride the rest of the way in. Dave actually waited for me before crossing and we rode over that final timing mat together, which was a really cool thing for him to do.
I can’t tell you how many times during the ride I asked myself why I was doing this ride and why I didn’t just quit. There was no finishing medal, this wasn’t even a race. In the end, just like with the Ironman, it’s about pushing yourself to your limit and then exceeding it. When you do that, there aren’t many other things in life I have found that give you that sense of gratitude. I don’t know if I will ever do the Diabolical Double again, but I am definitely glad I did it once and can proudly say I did the entire thing.