Surviving the Florida Gran Fondo

Well there you have it - officially done with the first competitive Gran Fondo for me.  How did I do?  By the pure numbers terribly, but how do I feel about it - well let’s talk about that shall we…

So yeah, for my age group I was at the bottom, not the last person but not that far away from being so.   And for the overall I did a little better, but only marginally being at the bottom 20%.  I haven’t done the required math to see if the percentages match between my placement for my age group and my overall placement, so we will just go with “I did a little better overall” yeah I like how that sounds. 

Approximately a 12.5 hour drive (closer to 14 after taking into account stops and such) to do a bike ride where you finished near the bottom, was it worth it?  Hell yeah it was.  I challenged myself this year to something I knew would be difficult.  I knew it would be very hard.  If you remember, my goal was to see how close I could get to qualifying, it wasn’t to actually qualify. - although I would have been overly stoked to do so - but to see how far I could get. 

How do you truly know where you stand not just within yourself and your own capabilities and where you stand with others until you venture out and try something new - jumping head first into it.  This first ride was meant to primarily establish a baseline as to where my current fitness and capabilities are.  

I’ve never attempted something like this and I didn’t know what to expect.  Sure I read the materials and watched videos, so I know the logistics of what to expect but I didn’t know how things would feel and how I would perform.  You don’t know until you try right?  

The weather for the day was just perfect, there wasn’t much of a wind and the temperature stayed in a nice comfortable range.  For a good part of the ride it was overcast but even when the sun came out it wasn’t oppressive - that said, apparently my sunscreen needed to be replaced before this ride because it did not do me any favors and I got cooked. Let this be a PSA for all, check your sunscreen before going out!

Anyway - the way I viewed the course was in 8 chunks, 4 timed sections and 4 rest stops.  These rest stops were about halfway-ish between the timed sections so it wasn’t like you crossed the line and then a couple minutes down the road you rolled to a shaded area to sip on pickle juice and fresh gatorade.  I like having markers to aim for.  I mean, who doesn’t do that on their bike ride?  You think you want to stop and pause for a bit but maybe after finishing that corner, or I know there is a building a little bit down the road, so after that we will stop - these mental markers help us push that little extra effort.

It was time, we were at the morning of the ride and there was nothing left to do but get kitted up, get to the start line, cue up that playlist and wait for the 3…2…1…GO!

Time to swing the leg over the bike and take that journey, not just through the winding roads of a bike race, but through the nerves, worry, excitement, and yes, still a little bemusement that I was actually doing this. The anticipation building at the start line, the adrenaline coursing through my veins, the sheer excitement of what lies ahead.

They were having people do staggered starts - a group of 20 or so riders (I’m just guessing, I didn’t really count) launching at a time.  The beginning of the course puts people on a bike trail and this would help prevent a traffic jam on the trail.  

I was on the bike, left foot clipped in and ready to go.

3…..

Ok, this will be great, it's just like the Bike MS rides but with fun sections spread throughout.

2…..

Wow, look at all these really REALLY nice bikes and everyone looks like they are ready for a full road race, am I ready

1…..

This isn’t a mistake, just remember to pace yourself and don’t blow-up getting too excited in the buildup to the first timed section.

GO!

I hope I’m ready for this.

But alas, as the race unfolded, it quickly became apparent that my performance was not on the same level as my fellow cyclists. Pedal stroke after pedal stroke, I found myself struggling to keep up with the pack.  Yes, I could have pushed it harder to catch up and then enjoy the draft for a bit but something kept echoing in my head:

They are down the road and yeah, while you can see them still and you can catch up to them, you will burn too many matches to get there.  And once you get there will you be able to maintain the pace that they have already set or will that just burn more away and leave you wasted later in the day when you still have 30 miles to go.

I came to the conclusion that maybe I would just catch up to them after the timed section when they will surely be sitting up to recover on their way to the next stage.  

So I let them go and kept turning the pedals at my own pace.  

The first timed section wasn’t too bad, it was 5 miles and we had the luxury of starting after enjoying a descent. Approaching the line I got my gearing all dialed in and was ready to cross those lines and give it a good push.  

I kept my bike computer on the directions screen instead of all my metrics.  I wanted to concentrate on the distance traveled instead of the speed and average speed of the ride.  I knew that if I focused on those numbers I would lose that commitment to pace myself properly - that I would care more about the average speed number over how I was feeling.

5 miles can be a long distance and it can be a short distance.  I was pedaling along not knowing what was ahead of me.  I could have switched to the profile view on my computer to see if I had climbs or descents but I didn’t - not on this segment at least.  

3 miles to go, 2.5 miles to go, whew, halfway, you can do it, there is only a mile to go. I just kept talking to myself, encouraging myself to keep pushing and driving on through.

I crossed the lines and sat up.  I felt like I did a decent job on that segment.  I knew I wasn't near the fastest but I think I did fairly average.  Looking at the final numbers now I was 277 out of 429 for that first section.  I’ll take it.

What surprised me was that I didn’t just sit up and coast. I had a good pace going and while I didn’t keep digging in, I shifted to get back to the cadence I am comfy with - low 80s, and was able to maintain 95% of that speed without feeling like I was overworking myself.

After some time I hit the first rest stop and was able to top off my bottles and grab a banana.  I was listening to some of the other riders reminisce about previous years when the weather was not as cooperative.  Hearing the stories and seeing the different jerseys I had the even greater sense that I found myself a beginner amongst a peloton of experienced competitive riders.  Yeah, I was out of my element, but that was the whole point right?  To put myself in a new and, yes, uncomfortable situation to see what I could learn and do.

It was time to hit the road again and keep making that forward progress. 

The second timed section was, dare I say, pleasant like the first one. The 5 miles were ticking by at a good rate and I was feeling good about my performance.  This section was about a half mile shorter than the first one but I was happy with my pace, heck it was a little faster than the first segment.  

After the second segment I was cruising along and caught up to a group of riders and stayed in that pack until we hit the rest stop.  That was a good time, it was nice to enjoy a little draft from about 8 other riders and to not feel like I was in no-mans land like I had been for most of the course up to that point.  

The third segment though, that is one I did not like and did not do as well on.  This segment had more climbing in it at least that is what it felt like.  Looking at the course after the fact it was very comparable to the second segment and less climbing than the first segment.  Despite all that my legs just weren’t pushing out the watts that they were previously.  This is where the real fatigue sets in and the intense mental game begins.  Everything felt steeper and harder to cross.  Everything felt just, well, more.  

As the miles passed by, my position in the race slipped further and further back. Each hill seemed steeper, each competitor more distant. Frustration threatened to consume me as I watched others effortlessly glide past, leaving me in their dust.

One of the disadvantages of doing rides like this all on your own is that you don’t get the benefit of drafting with a group.  This is not to say you can’t link up with groups while on the road - I did that a few ties over the course of the ride.  What I am saying is that when you have a group of people you are familiar with there is a chance that you are all at the same athletic level or at least know where everyone is with their capabilities.  Pace lines with people you know work better because you know what pace to set that everyone will be able to work with.  And these lines will certainly make those time sections better.  Its almost like you are doing a team time trial when you have a good line going along.  Being the one out in no-mans land means you are having to work even harder to get that speed up.  I guess that means I need to break out of my shell a little more at these and try to connect with some riders and enjoy those drafting benefits.

When I’m doing the MS rides it isn’t uncommon for people to pace behind me.  It isn't that I’m going crazy fast - I think this fondo proved that - but its because I’m a big guy and I punch a big hole in the wind  for people.  I don’t mind at all doing long stretches of pulls on those rides because we are all out for a fun ride and the majority of people aren’t in that competitive mindset.

So when I’m out there on my own pushing through the timed segments I recognize the desire to be riding with others to get that speed up that little more with fewer watts being pushed through the pedals.  I know that were I to have been in some groups my results would be better.  But you see, I can’t rely on always being able to find a group.  And I won’t use that as an excuse for not finishing as quickly as others.

I made it through the segment and coasted a little more after this one than the previous.  I needed to catch my breath and give my legs a rest.  This was the first time I started to really pay attention to how far away the rest stop was.  Yeah, I can find a piece of shade at any point, pull over and take a moment, but in my head you only do that at the rest stops.  So I kept turning those pedals over and made it to the stop.  

That fourth timed section was a fun one - mainly because it was shorter than the others.  I felt good on this segment despite not going as fast as the others.  This is a great example of how a positive mental approach can ease the pain.  Looking down and seeing it was only about 3 miles instantly meant I would be done with this one sooner than the other three segments. Three miles, that’s nothing.  I have been doing almost twice that in the other areas, this will be short and sweet.  Look at that, already halfway there, no problem at all.  These positive talks with yourself will carry you through and help you feel as though you are flying down the road regardless of how you are actually doing.  

Yet, amidst the struggle and the disappointment, there were moments of clarity and enlightenment. As I fought to keep pushing forward, I began to realize the true essence of perseverance and resilience. It wasn't about winning or losing, but rather about the journey itself and the lessons it had to offer.  Above all, this was my baseline ride.  This was the ride that I needed to complete in order to take stock of where I was physically and mentally - where I was with my pacing, my nutrition, my endurance, and yes, how I talk to myself to keep going.

That mental part is the hardest bit of all.  When your legs are starting to feel tired, or you are pedaling with all you have and you don’t feel like you are going as fast as you could be, that's where the mental games start to creep in.  The self-doubt can take hold and turn a tough situation into a miserable one - to paraphrase, cycling is 90% mental and the other half is physical. 

With each passing mile, I learned to embrace the fact that I wasn’t flying past others, to silence the voice of doubt, and to focus on the present moment. I embraced the importance of pacing myself, of listening to my body, and of finding my own rhythm amidst the competitive voice trying to convince me that if I just keep pushing harder I can find a group to catch up to and then everything will be easy.

As I pedaled my way through the course, each setback became a stepping stone, each obstacle a chance to learn. I studied the other riders, analyzed their techniques, and gleaned insights that I could apply to my own riding style. I discovered the importance of perseverance, of resilience, of never giving up, even when the odds seemed insurmountable.

And as I crossed the finish line, far from the podium and the accolades, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment. For in that moment, I knew that I had given it my all, that I had pushed myself beyond my limits, and that I had emerged victorious.  No, not victorious with a podium finish but victorious in the sense that I accomplished what I set out to do with this ride.

Entering a competition in a domain where you're a newcomer can be a daunting experience - to measure yourself against those who have honed their skills for years is strong, but it's essential to remind yourself of a fundamental truth: greatness isn't achieved overnight. It's a journey marked by dedication, perseverance, and countless hours of hard work.

In the face of seasoned competitors, it's crucial to maintain a realistic perspective. Respect that they have put in the time and effort to reach their level of athleticism. They've faced their own setbacks and challenges along the way, they too used each one as an opportunity to learn and grow. Comparing myself to them at this early stage of my journey is not only unfair but also counterproductive.

It is important to remember to focus on your own progress and development. Embrace the learning curve as an integral part of your journey towards mastery. Understand that every stumble, every setback, is a chance to refine your skills and deepen your understanding of the craft. Celebrate the small victories along the way, no matter how insignificant they may seem in the grand scheme of things.

Remember, even the most accomplished athletes started as novices. It's through perseverance and a willingness to push beyond their comfort zones that they achieved greatness. So, I need to remember to be kind to myself and recognize that I’m embarking on a path that requires patience and resilience. With time, dedication, and unwavering determination, I’ll inch closer to with goals, one step at a time.

So yes, while my performance may not have been stellar, the lessons I learned on that ride were invaluable. I was able to experience the true meaning of perseverance and resilience. And for that, I am eternally grateful.

With that under my belt I can now look ahead to the next fondo and what that involves.  I need to work on my endurance, my speed, and my climbing - you know the simple things..  I think my pacing, nutrition and hydration are fairly well set - with some minor tweaks of course.  To do that I’m going to try and dial in a good exercise plan from Wahoo / Sufferfest.  But you know what, I think that needs to wait until the next episode. 

But, you know what, those extra details are going to have to wait until the next episode.

Thanks for joining me at this cafe stop listening and let’s continue this soon.