There were eight (Maia came along for support) in the group I was crashing with in Ocean City (work acquaintances and their families). There were no formal plans to start together but Rob and I rode to the starting area and waited for the others. They had apparently already left so we decided to head off on our own.
Following my plan to "wing it," I headed off at about 20-21 mph, easily cruising along the smooth, flat asphalt. Rob stuck to my wheel for a bit before trading lead positions. OK, I thought to myself, perhaps this will be more than just a casual ride. I felt great, the relative rest of the previous few days had apparently paid off.
Eventually another rider grabbed our draft as we passed a constant stream of others cruising to the right of the road. By 5 or 6 miles we had reached a good paceline. Soon we were zipping along at 24, 25, 26 mph. Riding in a paceline is truly different than riding solo, and I was loving it.
We reached the first rest stop (23.5 miles) in about an hour. We hung around at this stop for quite a while. I've never really cared much for taking long breaks (longer than about 5 min) so I got antsy but didn't want to abandon Rob and risk riding by myself for the rest of the ride. I grabbed a couple bananas, downing one and stuffing the other in my jersey, and refilled my bottles. Rob and I took off after about 15 minutes.
It wasn't long before we latched onto another paceline. This group wasn't quite as fast as the previous, but we were still cruising along pretty good. Somewhere during this stretch Rob dropped back. I also witnessed an unfortunate crash during this section, but the victim seemed OK and uninjured. I rode back down the course to check up on her, but a group had already come to her assistance, so I turned back around. I caught Rob at the next stop (43 miles) a few minutes after I'd pulled in. I didn't stick around as long as the first stop, and I couldn't find Rob among the crowd when I was leaving so I just took off on my own.
The next stretch found me in another group of speed demons, and I mostly stuck in the middle. I don't have a whole lot of experience riding like this and rather than risk making others nervous I decided it was best to be conservative. I learned a lot about hand signals and verbal cues. There was a sprint for the bridge taking us over to Assateague, and we made it there just when the midday sun was really starting to heat things up. There was another rest stop across the bridge (63 miles).
By this point I'd noticed a bit of abdominal cramping as I walked around the food and water area. Not in my stomach, but more lower G.I., and it was causing me to lose my appetite a bit. I tried to use the restroom to no avail, and decided to head off before things got any worse.
The next 20 miles were the hardest part of the day, when I headed back inland from the sea. Where the morning was extremely calm, the wind had now picked up from due west, and it was a fairly stiff breeze. I couldn't find a paceline during this stretch and I was forced to push through the wind alone. I was getting hot, feeling a bit oppressed by the wind, and I just focused on drinking a lot and sticking to gels as opposed to solid food.
It was more or less an hour of agony, but I eventually pulled into the last rest area at 84 miles. I again tried to use the bathroom, again to no avail, and the cramping was getting worse. The only thing keeping me from stretching out on the grass and calling it a day at this point was that there was so little distance remaining. I had some water, a bit of food, and took off.
I rode for a couple miles without finding any other speedsters, but to my great relief a group in red jerseys whizzed by and I managed to stick on their tail as they passed. The wind had really gotten strong by this point, and one by one folks dropped off the back. Eventually I found myself toward the front. With 5 miles to go, the last brave soul spun around to the rear of the line. I couldn't tell how many were back there but I was feeling pretty good so I just let loose into the wind. Before I knew it we were approaching the finishing area and their was only one guy remaining behind me. He took off around me as I slowed into the chute. I chuckled as he zipped by, laying stake to the final few yards. Although I'd more or less pushed the pace for most of the ride, I found it amusing that he wouldn't just cruise across the line. Turns out that it's more or less a cycling commandment to break for the finish, even if it's not a race. Saddle time was quicker than anticipated (4:54) and total time was longer than anticipated (5:54). Great ride altogether and I really had a blast!
I saw Maia just before the tape, and soon she'd found me in the finish area. I chatted a bit with the others in the final paceline before looking around for a water fountain and toilet. My lower GI was now fully constricted and it hurt to stand up. Rob came across the line about an hour later, and the others a couple hours after that. The rest of the day was spent lounging around in the shade, grazing on grilled foods and carbonated beverages.
Sunday I felt surprisingly good. So much so that I ran around some trails in Rock Creek for about 45 min. The foot was stiff, no better or worse than in the past months. This week I'll be revisiting some plans of mine and laying out some new goals for the upcoming months. On Saturday I've got tentative plans for a ride in the Blue Ridge Mountains, might as well put some of this fitness to good use.
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