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Thursday, October 13

King and Queen of the Watershed 2022

No, I was not stoked on doing Greenway Games and KaQotW on back-to-back days.  I was marginally enthused when I saw my heart rate behaving closer to normal post-Covid on Saturday, but I hadn't done a whole lotta high intensity riding since... August?

Eeesh. 

Ride home after Greenway Games, shower, back in the car headed to Greensboro to meet up with Watts and do what we do the night before trying to rip our own legs off.

Mango loves me, this I know.

Beers at one place with a loud band followed by beers at another place with another (or the same?) loud band followed by a place specifically chosen for its lack of loud bands.  Watts's place for a night cap...

The next morning...

Watts once again talked me into making the long slog from his house by bike as opposed to parking at the finish and utilizing the free shuttle to the start because school buses bring back bad memories of bullies and assigned seats.  I (being the me that I always am) forgot that this makes a thirty five mile day into a forty seven mile day... and eventually a fifty seven mile day before we stop pedaling, I've not eaten or prepared in a manner that respects the distance.

Brief description of the event:

"The race loops will be timed but the sections leading to each trail will not be timed. The total race length counting non-timed segments is approximately 30 miles. YOU MUST RACE STAGES IN ORDER FROM 1-5 because we have cutoff times."

What that means to me is five intense intervals with a total time of two plus hours... with loads of lollygagging along the way.  

Watts starts the first stage thirty seconds in front of me.  He swears he's "Not been riding much," but he says that every year, and then I go first, and he catches me, and then we repeat that at least one more time when we finally agree to stop torturing me with "hope."  I'm happy to enter the woods, look down, see my heart rate go into the 160s... then the 170s... my happy place for long duration, high intensity.

Then I see 180s.  Then 189.  

Good lorb.

I guess I'm still being affected with the lingering issues from Covid... or mebbe not.  This is from my race report from '21:

I just must be super excite about the riding in Greensboro.

I'm not too far along before I can see Watts ahead.  Is he really outta shape or just feeling bad about destroying me the last two times I came up and not wanting to sad me outta coming up a fourth time?  Either way, he lets me around, and I keep destroying myself trying to keep up what seems like a nut ball pace.

Finish.  It's a time trial, so all I know is that I was faster than Watts.  This one time.

Stage Two and more pain of the same variety.  I turn off my heart rate data and just glance down at the map... which is just a bunch of squiggles on the screen.  On the way to Stage Three and we stop at the unofficial aid station brought to you by Modelo.

Stage Three is County (what I call it) but actually Country Park. I'm excite about doing this stage with a suspension fork rather than turgid as in the past.  Chunky with plenty of loose over hard and all I can think about is the potential cheese-grating of my knees and elbows.  I feel fast enough but mebbe like something hinky is going on with my drooper.

Pass the unofficial aid station brought to you by Modelo once more, get to Stage Four and... ummm...

My AXS Reverb is acting mooshy.  Like put some weight on it and it sinks about three inches.  Flick the button, squish, pull, push... yoink the post out of the bike and a bunch of opinions are opined as to how to fix it.  We stare at the Vent Valve, fiddled with the manual bleep blooper, talk about duct tape, Watts suggests I raise it so the sunk height is good for pedaling but I know I can't make my legs three inches longer to get my butt part back up and over it when (if?) it returns to full height.

Who cares?  I'll just ride standing up as much as possible while being angry and also sad as much as possible.

Finish that loop more sad than angry because I know the final stage will make me even angrier but also sadder.

Big Loop and Little Loop, connected by a one mile out and back on a pancake flat greenway.  I'll be riding almost half the distance of the entire stage with my knees bouncing up and down around my ears on my new-to-me BMX bike.  Pour as much rage into the whole things and some guttural noises and I finish...

In fifth overall.

Satisfyingly enough,  and even if my drooper wouldn't have turned into a pooper, I doubt I woulda done much better than fourth overall after comparing my my non-handicapped stages to the poopy droopy stages.

Whatever.

Me just about every year after finishing the King and Queen of the Watershed.

I came here to chew bubble gum and drink beer and I'm all outta bubble gum and also desire to ride any further.

This guy got bubble gum stuck to his knee.

We stayed until those that could pour beer would pour beer no more, and then I finally agreed to raise my saddle to a height that when mooshed, it would keep my knees in a more happy place for the ten mile ride home.

That'll do, pig.

My knees were not the only ones with a happy place on the slog back in the twilight.

We stopped and drank the last of the aid Modelos at a lake that I think Bob Ross painted once.

Once again, Dog provided us with the bestest of weather, the most pleasant challenge of trails, and most excellent hangs.  Gawdammit, this event is so much pain while also so much pleasure.  If only I could put it to song...


I'll be back.  I'll prolly always be back until I can't no more.  

Fonta Flora Barnburner 50k on the menu this weekend.

Much excite.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

I know you are just being funny/entertaining but one day you are going to stand in the presence of God (not Dog) and will be in complete awe of Him. When that day comes you will remember all of the little slights that you made towards Him and will feel a shame and unworthiness like no other.

I was once 100% agnostic but a set of life's circumstances brought me to the end of myself. Some call it "rock bottom". Feeling as though all hope was lost I reached out to a God that I truly didn't even believe in. Was incapable of believing in tbh. All I can tell you is that in that moment a literal miracle happened. God revealed Himself to me. I can't find the words to explain it....Imagine going into the woods and literally having "Big Foot" walk up on you. You experience him in such a way that your reality is literally shifted. It's no longer a choice of believing or not believing. It's a matter of no longer being able to "unknow" what you now know. God is real. He is more real than anything you've ever known. I know that apart from God literally revealing Himself to you as He did me you "cannot" truly believe in Him. Scripture even speaks of these things...Trust me (a guy you've never met) on this. Tread lightly.

Anonymous said...

Lighten up, Francis.

Anonymous said...

Everyone knows Dog stopped reading blogs years ago.

hellbelly said...

Now that errryone is properly offended, allow me to pose an inquiry. There is no doubt in my mind that you ride TF outta yr gear, but how is it that you seem to have an exorbitant amount of mechanical issues for someone who is svelte and rides single gear bikes? On the contrary, I accepted long ago that I destroy errrything as an aggressive rider of the Clydesdale variety and purchase gear with weight holding a third or forth tier level of importance if any at all. You purport to do solid routine maintenance, so is it just lack of pre-race checking stuff or are you simply cursed?

dicky said...

hellbelly,

The drooper? Bad luck? Dunno. It's been serviced previously. I'm waiting to hear back from SRAM now. Other than that, I rarely have mechanical issues IMHOMO. I guess that bottom bracket that died on me was something back in August. That was inexplicable. No way I coulda foreseen either mechanical... although wait for my post about the Barnburner later this week.

I can't remember the last time a mechanical ended a race for me.