Date: June 6, 2004
Event: 2004 Elephant Rock Ride
Distance: Century (100.0 miles)
Location: Castle Rock, Colorado
Team: Matt Esser (Toid)
Results: 7h 50m (13.0 mph)
One hundred two point-one. That's the total distance my bike computer read when I crossed the finish line of the 2004 Elephant Rock Century Ride. However, it should be noted that the greatest emotion for me wasn't experienced at the finish line like most might think. No, it was somewhere around mile 70 when I barely had enough energy to lift my head up to even see where I was going, that I broke down and quietly wept inside. I tried closing my eyes, but all I could hear is the churning of my pedals.
Around that point I was pressing a solid 6 hours on my bike, alone, going into a noticeable headwind on a road called Roller Coaster Rd., dehydrated from the 95 degree heat and trying to pedal up yet another countless hill that I couldn't see the top of. I cried because I didn't know what else to do...I cried because it's all I had left...I cried because I knew I'd make it to the finish line.
I know it all may sound paradoxical, but the picture that I hold dearest to myself from this ride is not me finishing the race, but starting it. Of course I didn't realize this at the time, but at some point during the race I came to that realization. Take a moment and scroll down to the pictures and click on the third one on the first row from the left. There I am at the start of the race, smiling for the camera, holding my little, red racing bike with the starting banner and the moon in the background having no idea of how far 100 miles really was. The farthest I ever got around to in training was 52, (and that was without any hills). But yet there I stand as happy as a little kid getting his first tricycle.
After saying goodbye to Colleen, I was riding off into the warm, Colorado mountain sunrise. Who could ask for more? Well, it wasn't exactly an easy beginning as the hardest part is within the first 10 miles. (Not to mention the first 30 miles are uphill) Click here for the Elevation Profile.
The climb up Wolfensburger Pass is ridiculous. My heart rate was at 192 the entire climb, and I was in granny gear (30/25) just trying not to fall over sideways due to lack of speed. I was also burping up the pasta and meatballs I had for breakfast at 4am. (I'm not kidding, I really had that for breakfast) However, once I made it to the top, I was rewarded with a perfect view of the sunrise and a better perspective on what to expect during the ride.
From the top of Wolfensburger Pass to the first aid station at 10.3 miles, there were rolling hills that would drain all my energy for later in the race. It was neat however watching pace lines fly by me working in formations to block the unfortunate headwind that was coming out of the south. I wish I had at least one other person to help block the wind for me, but alas, I didn't really know anybody riding the century course, let alone the race.
My mood and outlook at the first aid station was good. I filled up one of my water bottles with Accelerade and had a couple oranges. Colleen was there to cheer me on and after a few minutes I was pedaling faster towards the second aid station.
Since we were riding south (directly into the wind), I tried my best to sneak up onto the back of people and catch a break from the wind. It never failed though that even with me doing this to groups of people that I got the impression that they wondered who I was and why I was drafting off of them. I felt like I didn't belong. Oh well, I continued to hum along and I beat Colleen (who was bogged down by bike traffic) to aid station two.
At the second aid station there was a great view of Pikes Peak and I was still smiling. (As you can see in the picture below) I felt good although I was a little bummed that they didn't have oranges and I had to settle for apples. It would then be the longest jaunt between aid stations (14.5 miles), but it felt like the terrain finally was flattening out as I could get a little higher average speed.
This is where the other courses opt-out of the extra, (and sadistic) loop the century riders have to take through the Black Forest. With names likes Wolfensburger and Black Forest, you know this ride isn't easy. At this point I actually grew pretty upset with the number of rolling hills, but as people passed me, all I could hear them mumble is something about the upcoming Roller Coaster Rd. section. What the heck!? Were the race directors and volunteers enjoying driving by and watching us suffer? Apparently the hills won't end for some time now, so I had better just get used to it.
I did notice a few people dropping out and some other experiencing mechanical trouble or flats with their bike. Luckily, up to this point I had no problems with my bike at all. I just hoped it would continue.
Before I knew it (my mind was beginning to get delirious from the monotony of riding a bike up and down hills), I was at the third aid station. As you can see in the pictures, my mood is looking bleaker. I was a third done with the race at this point and I was already pretty tired. However, I grabbed some crackers and ate one of my Power Gels and talked to Colleen a little bit. She was starting to chat with some of the other bikers who thought she was now a SAG wagon since she had been riding really slow along the course. Hehe.
With renewed spirit I took off up the rest of the hills that the Black Forest had to offer and then started curving back around the west. Finally, I was heading some direction other than the dreaded south with was against the wind. Colleen took a picture of me at this point and I felt okay. (But only for another five minutes)
By the time I got to the fourth aid station, my lower back was on FIRE! It hurt so bad I wanted to dismount my bike and throw it in the ditch. I told Colleen that I had to open up the hatch on the Blazer and crawl into it and stretch out my back as it was throbbing. (She didn't hesitate to take a picture) I was now halfway through the race, and couldn't imagine pulling another 50 miles out of me, so I just laid there in my Blazer for 15 minutes not doing anything. Eventually, nature called and for the first time in the race I peed. Looking back, this should have been a sign that I wasn't getting enough hydration since it took me this long to go to the bathroom.
Eventually I realized that I had to get going if I were going to finish this race and didn't want the lactic acid building up in my legs, so I dumped some water over my head, filled up my water bottles, grabbed a couple grapes and went back at it. I wasn't in that good of physical shape, meaning my legs were starting to tire, but at least my back didn't hurt as much as it did before I laid down and stretched it out. THAT would have been unbearable.
Aid station five signified the end of the Black Forest and the beginning of Roller Coaster Rd. There was this hill that led up to the aid station that was causing a lot of people to get off their bikes and take a break while still on the hill. Luckily I had enough speed coming down the downhill, along with the motivation that I knew the aid station was near, to get to the summit and relax back in the comfort of my Blazer with Colleen. For the first time during the ride I was hungry, and so I grabbed some bagels with peanut butter and oranges (finally oranges!) and sat down in the shade. I then almost watched this girl get hit by a car as she didn't even know the aid station had a major road passing through it, and her brain was still oxygen deprived from the climb up to her current point.
I felt better knowing that there was a good 300ft drop that I was about to embark on, but that only meant one thing. That I would have to regain that elevation on the blasted Roller Coaster Rd. which is very aptly named. My average speed dropped really low (12.0mph), and my morale dropped even lower. There were probably 10 hills that I went up and down to get to the next aid station that was only seven miles away. In fact, the last hill was so big that they put the aid station halfway up it so that mere mortals can finish it.
As I was going up that final hill to the sixth aid station, some guy in a bike passed me with his troop of five riders that had speakers attached to his bike and he was blaring Meatloaf when he passed me. Who on earth wants to hear Meatloaf while on a century bike ride!!! The lyrics should have gone, "And I will do anything for love, but I won't do THIS!" (meaning ride a century bike race)
When I saw Colleen I kind of threw my bike at her and told her to lean it up against something as I was too tired to even figure out how to balance it on the hill that we were on. Meanwhile I crawled into the front seat of the Blazer starry-eyed and convinced that only maniacs do this for a living. At least I had ridden a metric century at this point.
The problem here was, "How does one get started again knowing that I immediately have to continue going up this gonzo hill?" In fact, I tried clicking into my pedals and misfired and almost toppled over. Eventually I got lucky and placed my foot very quickly and in the right spot and got my second leg clicked in and slowly started back up the hill.
The heat really started to get to me at this point in the race. I felt like I was going to spontaneously combust into a flame I was so hot. At one point I was so hot that I felt cold. It was not looking good for a while. My brain completely checked out for miles at a time and then suddenly I would come back to reality when somebody passed me, only to realize I still had further to go.
My mantra that I was chanting to myself was that I had 9 miles left to go up these damn hills and then I finally get to go downhill. (Yeah, where has that word been this entire trip report???) If I could just get to the next aid station things would get better and I could descend and not have to reclaim that lost elevation.
I was as sore as I think a moving human could be at this point. I had about eight miles to go to aid station seven, but more importantly I realized that I was now facing the entire Elephant Rock Century Ride that I set out to do, directly in the face. It would be so easy to stop pedaling. To just quit. I could just stop moving my legs, dismount my bike and it would all be over. This isn't like climbing a mountain where you have no choice but to keep descending. This was a bike race with thousands of other participants and SAG vehicles and medics out riding the course, police escorts, the whole nine-yards. I had already completed a metric century. Nobody would care if I didn't finish the real century. People I told I was riding a century would still probably all tell me I did a good job and made a valiant effort. But something inside of me wouldn't let me quit. Something inside wouldn't let me settle for what other people thought was good enough. It was here that I had my moment. I gritted my teeth, reached way down inside of me, took a deep breath and yelled out-loud that I was going to do this. And that was that.
After crossing over I-25, it was downhill to aid station number seven. By the time I arrived here I was out of it. In fact, I was so disoriented that I almost ran directly into the policeman trying to guide me to the aid station. However, for the second straight aid station, I didn't feel like I could keep down any food, and went over to Colleen and talked to her for a while as I sat in the Blazer. The good news was that I was at Palmer Lake and would now lose 800ft of elevation that I gained by going up Wolfensburger Pass way back in the beginning.
As I started riding off, I noticed the other people were looking in about the same condition as me. The policeman was trying to direct bikers in the right direction, but for some reason, a few cyclists would just continue going the wrong way until he whistled them down. Apparently I didn't have the only mind that was thinking of only one thing: finishing.
The descent was glorious, and my legs welcomed every-bit of it. I got up to speeds of 45mph and the wind flowing over my body felt like I was wrapped in a soft, cool blanket of air. And then that blanket of air felt like it was dripping on me, and then I became aware that it was now freaking raining and I had 15 miles to go!
I blew by aid station eight, making it the third straight aid station that I didn't stop at to get food or water, in an attempt to keep my speed up from the descent and to get to the finish line before the rain became more than a drizzle. If anything the rain was irritating because I was annoyed with everything at this point. Even roadkill on the road was making me upset because I would have to swerve and miss it which required energy. Up ahead I saw two things. A huge group of people, and lightning. Things didn't look good.
It didn't take me long to figure out that the group of people that were ahead of me were all taking a break before the final hill that would make the entire race seem like it had no other hill. The hill loomed large up into the dark, rainy sky and I did see one lady crying in disbelief swearing she was told by her friend it would be all downhill to the finish except for one hill. When I spoke to her she said that she never imagined this would be what that hill would be. It gains 400ft in about a mile, which is 7.6 percent, but more importantly it's around mile 92 when you have nothing left.
I began up the hill trying to convince myself that this was the last one, but the problem was I had been doing that for the last four hills. But somehow my brain realized that I wasn't fooling myself and that this one was the absolute last big hill that we would have to climb. I admit, for the first time the entire race, I clicked out of my pedals halfway up and took a one minute break.
Next to me standing there was this guy who said that this was his second century, but first in the Rocky Mountains and was harder than he thought it would be. We both agreed that it will feel good to reach the summit and angle our bikes downhill for good. Upon reaching the top, we both let out a whoop and we could finally see the town of Castle Rock in the distance, some 10 miles away.
Knowing that I'm getting close to the finish, I kicked it up a few gears and rode hard down to the city of Castle Rock, where we only had half a mile to go through the streets before we wind around and go over one last small hill to the finish line. There were about 15 of us grouped together as we mingled with cars and made our way to the finish.
As I came down the hill to cross the finish line I was avidly looking for Colleen. I couldn't spot her, but amazing as I was just crossing the finish line there she was patiently waiting with the camera on and took my picture. I kissed her and then a tear came out of my eye, but one couldn't notice because of all the salt streaks on my face. I told her to take my bike to the car, and that I was going to go lay down in the grass. Her first words were, "Congratulations Honey! You did it! I'm so proud of you!" But they were immediately followed by, "Honey, are you drunk?" Apparently I wasn't making any sense to her as I babbled about whatever it was I was talking about after just finishing 102.1 miles. I then took off my shoes, and laid down in the soft, green grass knowing it was all over with.
I had done it. Praise God for giving me the will and the determination to set a goal and see it through to its completion. All I remember thinking as I was laying down on the grass was that I can't move, but I have this free ticket for a barbecue dinner and that I wanted Colleen to have it. She had worked hard all day driving around and taking care of me. (Which was probably a big chore, I'm sure)
After getting my plate of barbecue, we sat down at a table with this guy and daughter and found out that the girl had just done her first century today too, and that she was really tired. I then realized I couldn't stand up. In an attempt to remedy this, I told Colleen to go put my name in the drawing for the free stuff, while I managed to stand up and hobble over to the massage table, hoping she wouldn't notice.
It was the best and most embarrassing massage I have ever gotten. Better than after the marathon. How can a massage be embarrassing you ask? Well, it was 30 minutes in length, and after fifteen minutes the masseuse (Jodi) asked me to roll over from my stomach to my back. I tried to move my arms, but I couldn't. She asked if they were asleep. I told her no they definitely weren't asleep, I just simply couldn't move them. She then asked help from one of the other ladies, and they tried moving my arm. Once they got my left arm into position, I still had no control over my triceps and shoulders to push with, let alone twist my back using my abs and legs, to get rolled over. It took the two of them, plus me being extremely embarrassed that I couldn't even do something as simple as roll over, to get me over on my back. (Don't we learn how to do this after a few months of being born!?) Once on my back the massage continued and I couldn't believe how I even made it anywhere on my bike.
After the massage I tried to stand up but couldn't, my legs buckled as soon as I got my weight off the table and onto the ground. Colleen had to help me stand back up. It was unbelievable. The only time I have ever seen a body do this was on those clips they show on TV of the two girls that tried to finish the Ironman and they were walking all funny. That's what I felt like. (Except I hadn't done the swimming and running portions)
All in all, it was a great experience and will probably do it next year if Colleen wants to do it with me, either by herself or on a tandem that we could rent. I now have a better idea of what riding 100 miles is like and now I know how to train for it. (You can't just get away doing the flat stuff and only doing 50 miles as your longest ride for starters) Its benefits are obvious. After getting home, I used online calculators to calculate, based on my weight and time spent cycling, that I burned around 6700 calories. (Almost 2 whole pounds! Score!)
The funny thing is though, as sore as I was, the massage and re-hydration must have helped because the next morning I woke up and I felt fine, in fact, when I pulled my bike out of the Blazer, I took it for a little spin. My only ailment? A slightly sore butt. You know what that means...*smile*...triathlons here I come! Haha, well, maybe.
Thanks for reading my race report, I hope in amongst all the rambling you found some entertaining value. Enjoy the pictures.
Pictures: (Click on picture for caption)
Time Splits: (and more data than you can shake a stick at)
|
Aid #1 |
Aid #2 |
Aid #3 |
Aid #4 |
Aid #5 |
Aid #6 |
Aid #7 |
Aid #8 |
Finish |
| Distance |
10.3mi |
22.4mi |
36.9mi |
48.3mi |
61.2mi |
68.2mi |
77.6mi |
88.8mi |
102.1mi |
| Time |
0h 59min |
1h 55m |
2h 59m |
3h 52m |
4h 52m |
5h 27m |
6h 14m |
6h 49m |
7h 50m |
| Split Dist. |
10.3mi |
12.1mi |
14.5mi |
11.4mi |
12.9mi |
7.0mi |
9.4mi |
11.2mi |
13.3mi |
| Split Avg. |
10.5mph |
13.0mph |
13.6mph |
12.9mph |
12.9mph |
12.0mph |
12.0mph |
19.2mph |
13.1mph |
[an error occurred while processing this directive]
;){kind=link}