2005 Mt. Diablo Challenge - Chapter 1

Bowing My Head, Humbled

- by Jeff C.

This race being my first timed race, I was excited to line up that chilly morning with Willis and to see so many enthusiastic cyclists of all shapes and sizes. I thought I was ready, with my Bianchi and tuned brakes could get me up nearly any of the steepest hills in Pacific Heights (San Francisco). I've been taking my road bike about 2 times a week prior to the race. I chose not to carry any fix-it tools with me to help reduce weight, and I carried about 1/3 of a water bottle in fluids (salted Gatorade) because I figured that the volunteers would pass water to me during the race (they did).

I don't remember hearing the starting bell sound, but I do remember the ominous clicks of so many cyclists around me signal the rolling start. I kept up with Wilis for the first kilometer or so, but it was difficult to maneuver with so many adjacent cyclists jockeying for position and finding their pace.

For the first 4 miles, I was panting the entire time, and I was already spent long before the Ranger station. I could say the warm-up 7-8 miles from Willis' parents home, a little more than an hour ago, might've sapped my stored energy. Or maybe it was the 16 miles ride to my parents' home from the downtown San Jose Caltrain station the day before. Either way, my body and mind were defeated and I was barely halfway up the mountain. I thought to myself, my heart is going to explode, so I stopped on mile 4 or 5. It did me good as I was able to tackle a few more hills. Then after what seemed to be the last of the winding trails that just goes "up", another set of slopes appeared before me. I stopped again for 2-5 minutes, and took another rest, then another.  I counted 4 total stops toward the end (last 3 or so miles).  Then after about a pound or two of lost perspiration and non-stop internal dialogue (mostly cursing), I could see flags in the distance, and the final tower. Then I could see a lineup of people, waving me on which was probably the finish: the notorious "wall". I think the fact that I didn't want to walk my bike throughout any of the race, I just stopped before "the wall" for my fifth, and last break. After about 2 minutes, I clicked in, and set forward with my charge to the top, and I was up easily without a hitch. It was a surprisingly easy climb after I let my cardiovascular system pump that extra blood pump through my legs.
With a finishing time of 1h33m35s, I would say I've been humbled by Mount Diablo.
 
In hindsight: I think my pre-race diet could have been better. Drinking alcohol the night before, and the night before that may have affected my body a bit. All of that counts because - if you think you're not prepared, you begin to think you are not. You begin to have doubts during the race; those crucial times when your heart rate is close to 300% resting rate for prolonged periods, and you feel like the change of altitude after each hill climb reminds you how much you value that new 12-27 cog set you had installed.
 
Good memories: The best-Jamba-juice I've ever had, at the finish line closing ceremony, was delicious and timely. The harrowing, and endless ride down the mountain with Willis, as a horse crossed the road, splitting the peloton up a bit. The 1+ hour wait for Alicia, and listening to her story of two thoughtless, chatting riders (of which the race crew was not allowed to pass) who held up the entire race crew as they chatted and pulled their brakes for the entire ride down. 
 
Will I come back next year? You bet. My goal will be under 1h23m. You heard it here....