My first fondo (midi)
The lead up had been slightly harrowing. The previous week on the saturday, I managed to pull a muscle in my back. It hurt, cycling was pushed far from the picture as a focus on having a healthy back trumped all other matters in that current predicament. Nevertheless, I was still committed to participating because, hey, it was my first cycling event.
The weather forecast was not pleasant, though better than Sunday. I arrived in Cambridge early where nerves forced me to use a public restroom, that was fine, though I never really like using restrooms in bib shorts. I found Rob and immediately abandoned my assigned bubble and joined his. We joked and bantered, and most of all looked around at all the fancy bikes that seemed to be on parade. Partial to Cannondale myself, there were certainly plenty of them to look at longingly. Drawing attention back to my own bike, I did think the new Cosmic wheels (which let's be honest weren't actually brand new) were pretty cool, though dangerously thin.
The race began fiercely. I remember talking to some guy beside me early on. He made remarks about how threader were going hard early. Thank goodness, I thought, if this was easy, then the rest of the race would be very hard. Approaching the first big climb, we were averaging 35km/hour. Heart rate was steady, not to high, really the only form of measurement I can go by apart from the occasional glance at neighbouring Garmin/Wahoo. Though with the approaching hill and my previous experience of the fearsome Mangakawa Hill, I knew casual glances were probably out of the question. Focus was required. I hit the hill, steady. Not hard, steady. It was not the time to get over-excited. I think in the end, I did get kinda excited and also caught behind people who weren't really good climbers. Oh well. success and survival, heart rate was dangerously close to 180 beats per minute (bpm). There wasn't too much time to worry about that, because the race was on. Peaking around the last bend, though honestly, my knowledge of the bends isn't that great and they all seem like the last then laugh at you when they are not. However, the last bend came and Rob, who was right behind me yelled, "Don't let up now!"
He was right of course. The race in it's entirely was 87km long, I had done around 15km. Was definitely not the time to let up. I had trained for this, in a way, I had conquered the first big hill. I had achieved greatness. I had climbed the hill with strength. I had made it up to the top with a fast strong group. I was immediately dropped on the descent. Turns out, descending is not my thing.
I tried really heard to rejoin the group. Pedalling as hard as I could, breathing as hard I could. Heart rate still in zone five. It didn't work, so I rode by myself. Easing up on the peddling, I settled in to a steady pace. Alone in the middle of the race, I wondered why I had done all that bunch training.
I rode the final 60km by myself. It was brutal. Hot, muggy, thirsty work with plenty of climbing. Te Miro and French Pass followed Mangakawa. Muggy heat turned to muggy rain, a welcome respite for a moment. Only a moment though, then it was bothersome.
At the end of the day, at the end of the race, I felt awesome. My first event. 87km done and dusted. The most elevation I had ever ridden. It was well worth it. The finish was made even cooler with the receiving of new socks. Once results were posted, it turned out I came like 40th overall and 7th in my category Turns out lots of young guns had done really well. Oh well. My time was just over three hours. Very close to three hours at 3.02. I think I can cut a couple of minutes off and go sub three with a bit more training.
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