This morning at breakfast, we were all talking about the upcoming day and all the climbs. We were discussing tactics and just how difficult climbing in Alabama was proving to be. About that time, Reem chimed in and said, "Mike... I was on your wheel coming out of Aberdeen. You were climbing really good. You're a good climber." I thought back to that day and how I had stuck to David that particular morning. And I remembered that I had in fact hung in there pretty good. Maybe I was better at climbing than I gave myself credit for.
Whether you think you can or you think you can't, ... you're right.
Stewie Griffin
Last night I awoke again with my thighs clenched - like when you clench your jaw so hard that it aches. It wasn't a cramp, but something I was doing involuntarily. It felt like someone was hitting my thighs with baseball bats. It had happened for several nights. Someone asked me recently why I liked biking so far and hard. I said that I liked it because it felt so good when I stopped. But with this trip, the pain lingers. I believe that it is just my muscles rebuilding themselves; it happens with biking so many miles. It hurts, but to me it means progress.
Tuscaloosa is much bigger than I appreciated. After all, they managed to sneak in a university of 30,000 students without me even noticing. Getting us out of town this morning without getting into rush hour traffic meant that we were routed through some neighborhoods and back roads. But we'd still be in traffic for some bits - it just can't be helped. Mike told us not to leave as one big group, and it wouldn't be as bad. So for the first time this trip, we left spread out - wait a minute - no.... we left as one big group. These people like to move as one big group first thing in the morning. Today was "jersey" day; we were all wearing our ABB jerseys. We've been biking like a team - now we looked like one, too.
Cars, trucks and everything else were pretty close by. I nearly had a bus take off my left ear. That never happened in Bermuda. In Bermuda, they usually almost take off my right ear. But pretty soon after leaving the motel, we were in some really nice neighborhoods. The hills were straight up, and straight down. Imagine running full speed up a flight of stairs for a forty-story building, and then taking a slide back down. Now imagine doing that over and over and over again.
There were lots of turns, and we were still hanging together as one group. It was a complicated route, and no one wanted to get lost this early in the day. Or.... if we were going to get lost... we wanted to do it with everyone else. I kept my eye on two people: Nico and Reem. Nico has an upscale Garmin GPS cycle computer that he programs every evening with the next day's route - turn by turn. He then shares that info with three other riders that have similar computers. Reem has a good sense of direction. Sometimes, the GPS can give funky results; it is nice to have a good sense of direction (and someone who can read a route sheet) when that happens. And, that is exactly what happened about mile 12. I hopped onto Reem's wheel when the group hesitated at the GPS output.
We were hitting hill after steep hill - just as predicted. Nico caught back up. This was killer hard. About mile 18, we had been been doing this for over an hour. Imagine the most difficult spinning class you've ever had (if you've had one). Now imagine that it just won't end. I was up and out of the saddle on every climb. My face was covered in sunscreen and sweat. My nose was running. I was breathing with my mouth wide open, and saliva coming out the sides. Those guys with bats were back and pounding my thighs. I finally looked back and... we had dropped everyone else. It was Reem, Nico and me. I'm sure the other riders weren't too far behind, but at that time it was just the three of us. A professional cyclist, a true Ironman and me. I was biking way out of my league. I was cycling with skills that I don't own.
Eventually, we were caught. First it was Jay. "Hey kids! How's it going?!" Then Russ made it to the front when we slowed down to verify the route. Jay and Russ took off. Nico pulled to the side of the road. Per caught Reem and myself. The three of us set a grueling pace to the first SAG at mile 42. The hills continued. I tried to sprint up the hills (a running tactic favored by Jane to get over them quicker), but they were just too big. Reem was right there all along. She's got a cadence like a hummingbird's wings - super fast. She jumps out of the saddle too on the climbs and then settles into fast pedal stroke in a lower gear. Just when I think I'm going to lose her, she seems to slow a bit. She's not going to let me get dropped. When a gap does open up, and I work myself back, she shouts "You're doing great! You're a man on a mission!"
The three of us make to the first SAG together. Jay and Russ have just arrived. There is a sizeable gap between us and the next set of riders. Everyone that comes in after us says the same thing. "You're doing great, man!" They are all like that - never afraid to give out compliments. And I really appreciate it.
A few riders take the short SAG approach and beat us back out on the road. Reem and I take off together. Same approach - attack the hills. If I was out West, I would have settled into a slow, steady climb pace. But here, it is just a slugfest. The road surfaces change from mediocre to terrible to great and then back to terrible. Unlike Mississippi, however, there is a rhyme and reason to the changes. If it is a secondary country road, the surface is going to be crap the whole way. The surfaces also change with each new county we enter. But the ones that are bad... they are really bad. It is like 'Bama's version of Paris-Roubaix (a spring classic race in northern France that includes long sections over Roman cobblestone roads). It is so rough, it hurts. It is tough just holding onto the bars. After three weeks of centuries, every rider's butt is particularly sensitive. Unfortunately, we are riding on the bad roads more than we're riding on decent roads. The best approach is to go fast as possible. If it doesn't help you "glide" over the bumps, at least they don't last as long.
Reem and I are chasing down David. There is no particular arerodynamic advantage to sticking together on these climbs - but there is a huge psychological advantage. She's refusing to let me slow down. She's pushing me harder than I ever could have pushed myself. We finally make one desperate push and catch David. We stick with him on the flats and smaller hills. But David is stronger on the long climbs. Right before the lunch SAG at mile 84, we make a turn and find ourselves on a golden section of road that is smooth as silk. For 84 miles, we have beaten ourselves half to death. Our reward is a quarter-mile of smooth road and a sandwich.
At lunch, I remove my arm warmers. Temp at depature was 50. It has been cool and overcast all morning long. But, I ride better in short sleeves. Reem and I take off together again after lunch. I take the lead. And after a few miles, I look back... and she's not there. I had set a fairly fast pace, but I didn't mean to drop her. Up to this point, she had done the vast majority of the pace-setting and all of the navigation. I have no doubt that she'll catch up, and I continue on to Prattville. The roads from lunch onwards are all pretty good. None of that cobblestone stuff.
Prattville is a nice southern town that seems to be surviving nicely. Maybe because it is so close to Montgomery it has escaped the plight that has hit so many of these other smaller towns. Unfortunately, the motel is out by the interstate... and about 10 miles from the "downtown" area. We are actually back on country roads again. Climbing continues. We finally hit some really nice suburbs and Reem catches up. While I am basking in the good feeling of a hard day's ride, she's smelling the finish line. You can tell she's the pro... she cranks it up a notch at the end.
Reem sees the motel sign, cuts through a Pro Bass store parking lot, and we end up carrying our bikes over a berm to reach the back of the motel. We have reached the hotel before 3pm and well before the luggage van has arrived. We're not the first, but close. And we spent longer at each SAG than other riders. I am very pleased. "Congratulations" come from all the other riders. Once again, I have ridden harder than I ever imagined I could. And at that pace for almost 7 hours. I couldn't have done that without all the help and support from the staff and fellow riders. And most of all, I couldn't have done that without Reem. She believed I could do things that I couldn't even imagine. And that's what I'll remember most about this day.
We biked so hard, I only took one picture all day long. It is a pic of my lucky REI crochet gloves. They are way old-school and on their last legs. In fact, I will probably retire them after today's ride.
For dinner, Jay, Randy and myself hit a BBQ place across the street. We discuss the ride and biking tactics. I found out that Jay won the Arkansas State Road Championship last year for his age group. I'd also like to mention that Randy played football at the University of New Mexico until one too many concussions forced him to hang up his cleats. For the record, "one too many concussions" for me would be exactly one. I get the feeling that Randy hit double digits - 'cause that's just the kind of guy he is.
There are only four days of biking left. Tomorrow, we enter Georgia - our final state.
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