Winning solo in a bicycle road race is the ultimate prize in the sport. It demonstrates all the values that define an admirable road racer - courage, daring, commitment, belief in one's ability and a plain willingness to just "give it a go". Every cyclist fantasizes about such a moment in his or her career but few realize the glory. Luck plays a big part in the successful solo bid. The right combination of circumstances need to conspire in one's favor for the soloist to be blessed with success. I have never tasted this sweet but rare fruit. The opportunity has presented itself a time or two but the proximity of approaching teammates has always coaxed me to hesitate and wait for the help. So much for courage and daring.
The Wenatchee Valley Omnium Stage Race a few weeks ago was a race I had looked forward to all spring. It was the typical weekend stage race format with a time trial, twilight criterium and a bad ass road race on the final day. I lived in Wenatchee for a couple of years over a decade ago and still have friends there. I know the terrain well and the road course, in particular, is over notorious topography that I couldn't wait to test myself against. Even the Masters did two, 30 mile loops with 2,500 feet of climbing per lap. Weather was hot which added to the suffering. The Seattle boyz had not seen much sun this spring so I figured I would have an advantage. Not that I had a sun tan or anything but I usually do well when the mercury rises.
Although I felt good during the TT my performance only landed me in 6th place. That afternoon the downtown criterium proved to be much more interesting with me finishing 2nd, getting passed in the closing meters by a better rider who enjoyed my lead out. Funny about that, really. I asked Wenatchee local and now Garmin professional Tyler Farrar what the key to winning this crit was and he said to not lead out the sprint. He advised me to, "...let someone else jump on that grenade!" Well, as the pace slowed with two corners to go I feared getting out jumped and punched it myself, effectively exploding my chances for victory on said grenade. Oh well, second was okay.
The road race proved all I had hoped and more. We started near 1pm which made for a sweaty ride. Temps on the course were pushing 90 degrees by the time we hit the second go around. I could not stay with the leaders during the first lap and 3 riders were off the front as we faced another trip up the hill. Enthusiasm was noticeably low as we started the second climb. Instead of getting dropped like I did on lap one I was the guy pushing the pace. Only one other rider bested me from our group, slipping away half way up.
By the time I reached the feed zone I had a minute and a half on my competitors. At first, I figured I would come back to them as they reorganized for the rolling section at the top of the course before the plunge back down to the river. I glanced back at one point and saw no organization but rather a string of individuals slowing and privately struggling. Suddenly, the thought occurred to me to just give it a go alone. Why not? I was feeling good, the terrain ahead was convoluted and I would be out of sight the whole time. I owned the descent, taking risks on each technical turn that I had ridden dozens of times years ago. I was 20 miles out but simply focused on keeping my heart rate pegged and the nutrition going in.
Once at the bottom I faced 8 miles of flat head wind before the finish. As I settled in for the time trial ahead I felt the first twinge of a hamstring cramp set in. Panic rose as I pondered the possibility of my effort being in vain. I hit another gel and the rest of my water and dropped the intensity down a hair. Amazingly, the cramp subsided and the miles ticked by. I was picking off riders from other categories anticipating finishing alone for 4th. As I came upon another rider I recognized him as the guy who rode away from me 45 minutes prior. He was no longer charging. Instead, here was a salt encrusted rider simply surviving to the finish. As I passed him he got my wheel. A moment later he asked where the hell I had come from, pointing out that he had a "huge" gap at the top of the climb. I simply stated the the descent agreed with me and he declined to argue.
We traded pulls until the finish line loomed. It was a short 250 meter uphill conclusion that I suggested we take on as a drag race, mano a mano. He concurred and pulled from behind me. I was excited to give it a good dig but as I stood to fire, he simply sat and watched me go. A little anticlimactic but hugely satisfying, nonetheless.
So, it was not the solo win that teases me in my athletic dreams. But it felt like I had at least found the right moment to summon the qualities necessary to live that dream someday. The memory of that effort and relative success will spawn the inspiration to risk more when the opportunity arises. Another weekend, another venue, another chance to succeed. - Brian