All The Gaps

“Prepare to take your mind to another place,” it was the last thing I read before the horn went off for the start of 6 Gap. We took off Friday to Georgia for the 6 Gap century ride. Well “century” because it was 104 miles. Six Gap has 6 separate climbs in the Georgia Mountains, a total of 11,000 feet of climbing. Totally normal. I think it is the second most challenging event I’ve signed up for, didn’t quite beat Ironman. Getting to Atlanta was an adventure all on its own. Cancelled early morning flight, full flights the rest of the day, connecting flight…fast forward to the evening and I finally make it to ATL, my bike did not. It was still in Charlotte. I had to sit and hope it was put on the next flight. Thankfully it made it one piece.

I had an odd calm going into this ride, mostly because I already had the mentality that it was ok if I didn’t finish (explained later). It was technically not a race, so time wasn’t a stress factor. I honestly wanted to enjoy the ride. I was just happy to get the chance to ride my bike somewhere else on my bucket list. We stayed in Helen, a little German town I really wish we had more time to enjoy about 40 minutes the start. Like most of these events, your alarm clock is going off way before the sun comes up. When you looked back at the start, all you could see were bikes. A site I always love at rides.

I’m not going to lie, my trip to Boulder scared me a bit when it came to climbing, so I didn’t know what to expect. I prepared for the worse but prayed really really hard for the best. I played it safe and kept my power at a number I knew I could maintain and I wouldn’t blow up half way up a climb. Enter Neels Gap, the first climb. It wasn’t necessarily difficult, just long. At the end of this climb is when I realized I should have put some more food in my jersey pocket. The next two climbs, Jacks and Uncoi, went by relatively quick. My legs felt good, I felt good, my new friends around me felt good. I make friends at these things for fear of losing my mind. We parted ways at the bottom Hogpen. The 4^th and hardest climb. This is the climb that brings the demons. It was a total of about 6 miles and 3,000 feet of climbing and it was pretty much the half way point. Your legs already had a little burn, body parts were starting to hurt. I just focused on each pedal stroke, I counted the polka dots on my socks, anything to keep me from looking up to see how far I had to go. I was even writing this very post in my head. It had a lot more curse words then. It came to a point where you were so high up the fog didn’t let you see very far. Then, over a climb, you see the yellow aid tent. At this point, there was no doubt that I would finish thing. I had just made it up Hogpen, slowly, three miles an hour slow, but I got there. It didn’t take long to get to Wolfpen, the 5^th climb. This was the climb I truly felt my legs, this was the climb I wanted to quit, call an Uber, someone pick up, I was done. I wanted nothing to do with every single turn we took up this road. I repeated that last text from my coach in my head. This is where I dug into the depths of my soul and got my unhappy ass to the top of the climb. Mile 80, 24 miles never felt so long. Thankfully Woody’s (ha), the last climb was the shortest (ha) and easiest (ha). 10 miles to go. It was grueling and literally painful because my legs would not stop cramping and I rather end up in the fetal position on the side of the rode than drink the pickle juice. I just counted pedal strokes until I saw the finish line. I hadn’t felt this accomplished in a very long time.

I was told it would take me 9 to 10 hours to finish. I was told to do 3 Gap, the shorter option, because 6 Gap may be too hard. I was told not to be disappointed if I didn’t finish. I was told by someone that they would be waiting for me a long at the finish line. To these I say thank you for fueling my fire, not only for this ride but anything I decide to do in the future. I finished in 7:40:59. To some that may not be great, to me, I walk away pretty proud. Our group from the flat lands of Miami did pretty damn good as whole. I made the mistake of letting these people in my head, even during the ride for a split second. Well, you learn something new with each challenge you do. I learned not to listen to the noise, you won’t always have supporters, and you won’t always have people who believe in you. Trust yourself and your training. Next stop, states. ~ AddingMoMiles

 

Hello Boulder

It has been quite some time since I put something on here.  Lets just say life has been, well, life.  You get caught up on the day and day, open your eyes one morning and realize two months have gone by.  In order to break the mundane routine, the same training grounds, we packed up bikes and headed to Boulder, Colorado.  This trip kind of came randomly.  I figured, you only live once (yes, that’s yolo) and I was in need of that change. So we spent weeks looking at the Airbnb pictures of the house, anticipating this trip.  I knew it was going to be hard, I knew it would be grueling, but as a girl from the flat lands of Miami, this would be my first experience with real climbing.  Clermont?  Sugarloaf? Pretty much a joke to what we were about to climb.   I pictured, I imagined, and never did I think it would be so….incredible (yet painful).

After a much delayed flight, we made it to the house up on the mountain side, pretty much just in time for sunrise.  We were supposed to nap, but the last thing I wanted to do was sleep.  Hell, I was in Boulder.  So I sat out on the porch, watched the sunrise and light spread on the mountain around us.  What a poetic sap, right?  I’m just getting started.  Some breakfast on the terrace, fancy coffee making and bike building, we were heading on the rocky dirt road for some “light” climbing.  I don’t do well with rocky gravel roads, first thing I learned.  What….the….blame altitude, lack of sleep, rookie experience but 10 minutes into our first climb and my heart rate had sky rocketed.  I could barely catch a breath and felt like I was about to lose breakfast.  This was the easy part of the climb, mind you.  I turned it around, found a safe spot and gathered myself.  I did this two more times until I finally made it up to part that “flattened” out.  By this point I had lost everyone, including my Ziploc (my cycling wallet) with ID and credit card, and what felt like my soul.  After a 30 minute search up and down, one of the guys had found it earlier and stashed in their pocket.  Crisis averted.  So I continued on the road, roaming, lost on a mountain.  I figured at some point, they’d come back down the same road and they did.  The funny thing (but not so funny) about having a house on a mountain is that after a few hours of cycling, you have to climb back up to the house.  Ha. I was barely able to eat much, so my energy levels were at about -5.  I felt pretty awful and did my best to hide it (probably unsuccessfully).  With a little help, showing me how to pace on a climb, made it up.  I don’t know how pace on a climb, second thing I learned.

If I thought day 1 was a struggle, day 2 was, well, I don’t know how to even put into words.  We had an ex Miamian, now Boulder local, take us on what was some well-known climbs.  Mother of god, Flagstaff.  15 minutes, still climbing, 30 minutes, still climbing, 45 minutes, I am still climbing.  The array of emotions you go through.  “I can’t do this”, “man the f up”, “oh look at the view”, “it’s not worth the pain”, “yes it is”, “I got this”, “is that a tear??”, “think of the photo op”, “F that I’m done”, “why am I such a little bitch”, “must keep going”, “when is breakfast” I don’t think I would have made it as far as I did if it weren’t for one of the guys that came back, for what I felt was emotional support and a literal push up the mountain.  He patiently, even though I was not exactly a ray of sunshine, rode next to me, took breaks, until I literally could no longer pedal.  Note to self, unclip quickly or you will fall over. I don’t think I thanked him enough. I made it up Flagstaff and up towards Super Flag (where it took a turn for the worse).  The top of Super Flag will have to wait for the next trip.  It was very disappointing but there wasn’t much to do but just know I have to keep training, keep trying, keep building and getting those #gains.

Wait, we’re not done.  Lets go to a harder climb.  Magnolia.  It has such a pretty name, but it isn’t.  It just looked scary.  I gave it a try and knew I wasn’t making it far.  I turned it around and kept on the highway road we used to get there.  Nothing mattered but that exact moment, not how far I could get up the mountain, not watts, speed, how far I have to go, the disappointment in my performance, cycling gossip, bills, or troubles.  I was on a road between two mountains, absolutely clear blue skies, fresh air, riding along the side of a small river.  It was just a reminder of the joy riding brings, why I do what I do, why I love this sport so much; for what it could show me, for the places my bike could take me. If nothing went right the rest of the trip, it would still be a great trip.

We did some running, hiking and of course more riding the next two days.  Climb by bike and climb by foot.  We did it for the views (pots of gold) and the Instagram post, of course.  We laughed, a lot.  Drank good beer, shared a lot of stories.  A melt down or two and got some really good tips from a cycling veteran.  I could tell you this, the city itself surprised me, but the friends and cyclists I was with, impressed me.  Don’t tell them this though, I’ll never live it down, but their will to keep going on these climbs; their ease making it up, it was motivating.  They are great athletes.  It makes you want to get stronger as a cyclist.  Their love for sport, it rubs off.  They made the trip what it was, pretty memorable.  This was not only a great trip but it opened my eyes to what I want next, what I want to do and put a plan into place to work towards and get it.  You could say I’m excited for what’s next. ~AddingMoMiles