Well, we successfully finished the 2013 Summer Season and had a great time at Lake Tahoe!
I have to admit, it’s been a different kind of season for me. I got less pleasure out of riding, but more pleasure out of helping others achieve their cycling goals.
I was challenged by the size of my mentor group (18 people at one point) and the fact that I was assigned to the “fast” group (in Team in Training parlance, we rank our cycle groups “fast,” “faster,” “fastest,” etc.). I was consistently reminded that I needed to slow down, which eroded my riding spirit, but I kept the mission — and the needs of my group — in mind.
As the season progressed, it became clear that my season was more about helping others and less about improving as a rider. In fact, I think I regressed because I was forced to ride slower than I would have preferred. But I got a different perspective: one that showed me that the people who are closest to beginner status are the ones who make the biggest gains during the season.
It brought me back to my motorcycle track day days. I remember talking to one of the Club Desmo riding instructors about paying for a personal coaching day. The guy’s name was Aaron and he was the video bike guy, which meant that his bike had video equipment on it and he recorded other people’s laps as they went through their paces. When he told me I should pay for some coaching, I said, “Why? I am a slow rider!” And he said, “it’s the slow riders who stand the most to gain from some coaching. I could coach a fast rider and maybe shave two seconds a lap off of his lap times, but I could probably shave 20-30 seconds off of your lap times.” It made sense. I eventually took some lessons from him, and that talk always stayed with me.
That was then, this was now.
Fast-forward to 2013. I am supporting riders who are so new to cycling, they have a hard time shifting and braking. For some of them, a 20-mile ride is long. And I am feeling frustrated because I can’t ride the way I want to ride. But I persevere because they are persevering. I figure if they are going to put forth the effort to succeed, then I would do what I needed to do to help them cross the finish line in Lake Tahoe.
Throughout the season, we encountered our fair share of adversity. Mostly in the form of heat. It was an extremely warm spring. Our late-season rides from 60-80 miles were done in 80+ degree heat. People suffered because they didn’t listen to the coaches about how much they needed to drink. But eventually, we got to Tahoe.
By this point, I had dedicated myself to supporting every rider, which meant supporting the slowest riders. I calculated that our finish would take about 11 hours. That turned out to be a little optimistic.
Day before the ride.
Saturday, the day before our ride, we met in front of the team hotel and had a “shakedown” ride to make sure everyone had everything they needed to do the century. It also helped to work out the nervousness people were feeling. We went out pretty fast considering that it was our first experience at altitude, and one of our riders was really hurting, but we finished just fine and went to our pre-ride festivities full of anxiety and anticipation.
Day of the ride.
We gathered again in front of our hotel, which was next door to the official starting line. Everyone was feeling pretty good and we got off to a good start. I volunteered to sweep — in other words, to ride with the slowest riders — because I’d decided that this would be my last time doing ride support for a while. So I brought up the rear on a cold morning and we headed out at a pretty good clip.
Emerald Bay.
The first of two real climbs on this route was about 10 miles into the ride. Although we’d done bigger climbs than Emerald Bay, we hadn’t done them at altitude, so a lot of people were having trouble with it. Fortunately, we all made it to the first rest stop just fine.
Tahoe City, Take One.
We encourage our riders to attend as many training rides as possible, but one rider had only made it to maybe a third of the rides (and that’s a generous estimate). I have to admit that I was surprised to see him at the event. But he raised his money and was entitled to do his best to complete the ride. But I knew he wasn’t going to be able to do 100 miles. So I kept hoping that he would be able to bow out gracefully and not get hurt trying to do the whole ride.
So as we approached Tahoe City, we came to a little hill and he started to cramp up. This couldn’t have happened at a better time because if he’d made it to the turn at Tahoe City, he’d be pretty much committed do attempting the century. We stopped by the side of the road and while we were waiting for him to catch his breath, another team passed us. At the previous rest stop, we had talked about how they were only going to do the 72-mile route around the lake and not take the detour out to Truckee that made the ride a full 100 miles. I told my participant that I would be willing to help him ride as far as he wanted to go, but if he wanted to cut his ride short and just do the 72-mile route, the other group might be able to take him. Thankfully, he agreed that this would be the smart thing to do, so I sprinted off to catch them. Also thankfully, their ride coach was willing to take him under her wing. So we waited for this guy to catch up and off they went.
Truckee.
Now that the first straggler was safely transferred to a group that was doing the shorter route, I caught up to the rest of my team. We took the Truckee River Bike Trail, which was sooooo pretty! I kept thinking, “Wow, if I only had a fly rod, I’d cast for trout here, and here, and over there!”
We made the rest stop at Truckee together, but it was pretty clear that one of my participants was not going to be able to keep up with the rest of the team. So we rode at her pace for the rest of the trip.
Tahoe City, Take Two.
I knew my participant was riding for two honorees. I’d met one at one of her fundraising events, but I didn’t know the other one’s name. So, at one of the places we rested in Tahoe City, I casually asked her about her other honoree. It was one of her high school classmates, who was diagnosed with some form of blood cancer a few years ago and was doing very well in remission. But as we talked, she said her other honoree was not doing as well.
When she asked me why I wanted to know about them, I smiled and said, “I’m going to use that information in about 17 miles.”
Spooner Grade.
The second big climb of the ride came at the 80-mile mark. Spooner Grade is about eight miles long and about 900′ of elevation gain. At sea level, it would be no big deal. But at 6000′ and 80 miles into a 100-mile ride, it was a big deal for our group.
My first participant and I caught another one of our riders on this bump. This guy had attended most of the rides, and had done a half-Iron Man triathlon, so I wanted to help him as much as I could.
I told my other participant to keep going and that I’d check on her when I could. I stayed with this other guy for a while. This was a new challenge for me: I had to figure out if he could actually make it up Spooner Grade or not, and if not, what to do with him. He was not a good climber and had a suspect eating strategy for the ride. He told me he was going to just eat Clif Bar Shot Blox the whole day. I’ve tried these things and they are okay for quick bursts of energy, but I wasn’t sure they would get him through the whole ride. As it turned out, I was right.
We made our way up Spooner Grade about 500′ at a time. We were taking frequent breaks because his legs weren’t up to the task, but I was really concerned about his health and safety. Bonking and cramping were the least of his worries; the road up to Spooner was really narrow and he was weaving, so I was afraid he might get hit by a car!
While we stopped at one roadside break, a TNT coach from some other team noticed his legs were shaking and told him, “you need some electrolytes.” At this point, my only goal was to get him safely to the next rest stop (about 2 miles into the 8-mile climb) then find a way to convince him to take the SAG van to the top of Spooner Pass. I told him, “Look, we need to get you to the next rest stop and then you’re going to have to make a decision: continue or take the SAG van. We are going to sit here for at least 10 minutes so don’t even think about riding until you’ve had a chance to recharge.”
When we started riding again, I saw a guy dressed in all black gear, including a black cowboy hat, wearing a medical tool belt, asking people, “I’m looking for a guy I saw sitting by the side of the road.” I asked him if he was with the SAG wagon and he said he was. So I pointed to my participant and said, “look, you can take the van to the next rest stop or to the top of Spooner. It’s all downhill from there, but it’s up to you. I just think you need to get on the van.” Thankfully, he did without any argument.
So now I had to catch up to my other participant. She had kept going and was about three minutes up the road from me. We got some water and rest at the next rest stop and kept going.
Up to the Top, then Downhill to South Lake Tahoe.
After that rest stop, I pulled out my last motivational trick. I told her, “Your left foot is Ted. Your right foot is Andrew. Now I’m going to shut up (I had already used every other motivational trick in my book up to that point) and you’re going to do it for them.” 🙂
Well, it must’ve worked because she got to the top! There was another rest stop there, and we waited about 15 minutes there. Then we took off for the finish line. There were some smaller hills near the end, but at that point, I just told her, “You’ve come too far to stop now; keep going!” And she did it!
My grand plan was to cross the finish line together with my hand on her shoulder. Well, that was a mistake, because when she felt my hand oh her shoulder, she thought I was trying to high-five her. And she tried to high-five me (and missed). That caused her to fall literally three feet from the finish line! I was mortified!!! Even more so because her boyfriend was recording us at the time and the ensuing video made it look like I pushed her down!
Oh well, all’s well that ends well and we did it! It took two hours longer than my longest ride ever (Sea Otter 2012), but we did it.
So that’s the 2013 Summer season. I’m glad I was able to help my participant cross the finish line, especially because it was her third attempt at doing a century and she finally did it. Maybe I missed out on riding with people my own speed, but I helped other people do what they hadn’t been able to do before, so I guess it all works out in the end.
Now, I have to focus on training for my first marathon: the Nike Women’s Marathon in October!
