72 hours ago i set out on my voyage to a race in Peekskill NY, roughly 400 miles from my front door, in search of points for semi-pro upgrades. About one hour from leaving my house i got to Corey's apartment in Rochester. (this is the part where i wish my camera was in working order.) We stuffed my tiny car with two bikes and (almost) everything we needed for race day. After one subway and 5 hours we reached Poughkeepsie, where my friend Kate was nice enough to let us stay in her college apartment. Corey fixed his bike in the kitchen and we went to a 50s style diner for dinner.
The following morning was marked with some confusion, but all worked out fairly well. We made our was some 32 miles south to peekskill, where i made a wrong turn which lead us up an awesome mountain road and across the Hudson. After we made our way back and found the park some 20 minutes later we registered and Corey's race was about a half hour away. We find out that the sport race is two laps, and the laps are expected to be about an hour each. This sets me up for a 3 hour race. As Corey is racing i try not to think about the coming hours.
The race starts at 1. I immediately go off the front as hard as possible in order to create an insurmountable gap right from the start. It works, only two guys pass me, and they are not in my class, but the single speed class. I hang with hem for awhile, but they are superior riders, and escape me. The course was 9.2 miles of the rockiest, most technical up and down track i have ever seen. About 3/4 through the first lap i am joined by another rider, this time in my class, who claims we have a nice gap. We stay close to each other, neither one of us getting far from the other. I get two more bottles from Corey for lap two, and go through them almost instantly. I am without water for a good half of the second lap and hanging on to the other rider's wheel. On the final lap, i get more water, and i tell Corey to bring me more in the woods. The other rider says if we are going to torture each other for another hour, we might as well know each others name. his name is Mike, and he is 24 years old. At this point the hurt of having it pinned for 2.5 hours is pretty bad. Mike gives updates on the mileage from his computer and i encourage him to keep riding as well. towards the end i know i can drop him, so i take off on the last series of downhills, and sure enough open a gap. I push my lockout and sprint up the final paved uphill to the finish. Mike is not far behind. 1st and 2nd place.
I find out that unfortunately Corey's race didn't go as well, with a broken derailleur in the last 2 miles.
I rolled down to my car and lie down, feeling that i would surely die from such and effort. I was nauseous and very weak feeling. Thankfully awards were soon after, and we could go get some food.
In all, it was the hardest effort and race i have ever done. I do not feel i could have gone faster on that day. Out of all the 24 hour races, and all the 6 hour races i have never in my life been so taxed of energy. The heat, intensity, duration, and terrain made the race what it was. If you ever get a chance to go downstate, make sure to ride the blue mountain reservation trails, they are totally worth it.
www.wmba.org
Chris
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