Can't explain that 40 sec "pause" at the start since I rolled out w/everyone else. Might have something to do with me starting my Garmin early and having it sit there auto-paused...
Went into the weekend with the lingering effects (chest congestion) of a quick but nasty cold I caught earlier in the week, so I knew this was going to be a participatory ride, not a race for me. Still, I wanted to do well.
That first climb pretty much sealed the deal, EVERY part of my body hurt ALOT from then on. I spend 8 minutes with an HR of 170 (all the while pedaling in my granny gear) and from then on, I could not get my HR above 155 AT ALL. Although my legs were quite willing to labor on though the pain, I could hardly breathe. I wondered how alarmed the people around me were with my loud gasping. Nevertheless, I did pass people along the way. And got passed...
Stayed within earshot of Smudger and Gary for a while then somehow managed to pull ahead of both of them in the Victory twisties. Somewhere in there, Greg slipped by me. I rode for a while with a guy named Dave who was from Bellingham, MA. We stayed together quite a while and talked each other through some of the gnarlier parts of that segment.
Smudger, Gary & I regrouped at the rest stop at the end of that section, pretty sure Chris P could see the trouble I was in with one look at my face. Gobbled a combo of Bonk Breaker, Slim Jim, grilled cheese and a shot of pickle juice.
I cooled off significantly at the stop so when we took off, John and Gary left me in the dust as I sorted out how would make my now knotted legs resume their previous task. And then began the March to Battaan that the
Gold Trail segment turned out to be. 3 miles of intervals of 10 foot mud pits with occasional greasy, steep 20-30 foot climbs. I had to stop eight times to collect myself in this bit. I wish I had the presence of mind to have taken a few pictures so you could see just how awful this part was. IT WAS AWFUL!
Worse: the twin 10-year-olds and their mom, whom I'd been trading places with all the way from Victory, summarily dropped me through this section.
We regrouped again at the rest stop at the end of that nightmare, watched Jeremy blast by, left and soon I was off the back again. The climb off Pinkham Road had me stopping 3 more times to regain my connection to reality - from there to the finish, it was mostly like the last miles of a typical Wawa ride for me: that "empty shell of a person" feeling, legs pedaling like automatons independent of my mental control, and constantly hoping that every bird chirp was really the sound of the people congregated at the finish. I tried not to look at my Garmin to find out just how many miles were left.
Even in this MUCH easier terrain, little rises had me stopping, huffing & puffing, struggling to remount and continue.
Finally, I hear the real thing: the distant cheering from the finish that activated some miracle wattage and got me over the line converted from an extra from The Walking Dead to a smiling and relieved sack of misery.
Definitely the hardest bike ride I've ever done. I hope I can do it again without the handicap of a lingering cold.