A lot of my brain cells expired on that long and twisty road so my thoughts about the race have been in total disarray. But I'll do my best to put them in some kind of logical order.
I've never been that nervous going into a race before. Usually I'll feel anxious in the hours leading up to an event, but this time it started at least a week before and a couple of times I found myself thinking, "What the hell? Am I actually going to do this?" There were so many scary unknowns for me: the looming threat of biting cold and driving rain, slick and twisty descents, riding farther than I'm used to with the 1/2/3s, running out of food and water, etc.
Of course, I only worried about all of that because I wanted to do well, which I guess is a good approach to racing. I'm delighted to say that all my fears never really materialized (especially the rain part!).
In the start chute Bruce, Josh and I were positioned about mid-pack. Once we started rolling I kept remembering, "If you're not moving up, you're moving back." I ended up being right near the front of the pack by the end of Stanley Park and going over the Lion's Gate Bridge, but others started passing me on the descent.
The first hour or so of the ride seemed pretty mellow, actually. I remember wondering when the race was going to start and wanting the opportunity to hammer (be careful what you wish for). I fell back through the pack more than I should have during this time, but I caught myself and started working my way back up again.
I think it was around Britannia Beach that the pace picked up and the pack split apart on the climb out of it (I'm really unfamiliar with the route though, so I could be wrong). I know it was a big hill though, and I was in a good position and feeling strong so I kept a good pace climbing and passed some guys.
My memory is fuzzy at this point, but I knew I was in the second group and there was one ahead of us. I was surprised Josh and Bruce weren't with me and I wondered if they were in the lead group. My group worked together pretty well in a paceline and we caught the lead group in Squamish (this is bittersweet: it means they put eight minutes on us in only the last 60 km!). In the ride through Squamish I happened to be at the front of the paceline as we passed all the cheering spectators at the medio start line, which was kind of thrilling.
The lead group broke away from us again shortly after Squamish. Simon from IRC and John Rogers (now in Pro City kit) were in my group, plus one or two Trek Red Truck guys. We reached the second feed zone and I was low on fluids and feeling pretty desperate. Thankfully, Alex Hui was there and he handed me a bag. I pulled the water out, chucked my MEC bottle and rejoiced. Alex, I owe you big time.
From Squamish out I remember lots of hills, and cursing silently every time the road climbed ahead of us. I was surprised that there were still descents, but I was grateful for every bit of rest. The paceline was still intact and around the 100 km mark I really, really wanted the thing to be over. Fortunately my ego wouldn't allow me to fall off at this point so I carried on in the march of death.
The pace picked up with a few kilometres to go and four guys got away for a bit but we reeled them back in. I think everyone was feeling pretty ragged. I felt fine aerobically but my legs were totally shattered - very different from a TT or Mt. Seymour but just as much overall pain. I think next year I need to get more distance in at a race pace.
We rounded the last corner and I was surprised at how close the finish line was. I gave it everything I had and passed a couple of guys, but much of the group crossed the line ahead of me. I was so elated to be finished, but I could barely walk after I got off my bike. Now that I'm safe and warm in my home I wish I had gone harder to get in a better position for the last corner, but it probably wasn't physically possible at the time. Overall I'm really happy with how my race went. I was sorry to hear about the difficulties Josh and Bruce faced, as I honestly thought we would finish together.
As a passenger in the drive home from Whistler yesterday, I was blown away at how much scenery I missed and the grade and length of the hills. It honestly didn't seem as intimidating on the bike for some reason - I'm glad I didn't know what I was getting myself into.
I was really impressed with the organization of the race. $200 was pretty steep but I think they gave us our money's worth. I'm sorry I missed the group socializing in tinfoil blankets afterward. I really enjoyed reading everyone's reports and great work to everyone who participated.
As a side note: I rode in to the start with the Accent Inns crew on the Dunsmuir Viaduct that I've read so much about in the Vancouver newspapers. It was pretty sweet! All those whining drivers should get out of their cars and try it.
TL;DR: The race was great and hurt a ton.
PS: A big thank you to Dave Spiers for letting me use his race wheels. It's going to be hard giving them back...
) but it's the lack of collaboration I found weird. Guys would sprint up the hills past me, three hills in a row, then not even respond as I freewheeled past them on the downhill. Was there a king of the mountains competition I didn't know about? I think a fun option would be to really stick together, and see if we could get an age group contender onto the podium.
