Cow Country Classic

No matter the sport there is always repetition in competition.  Whether it be a particular team or fellow athlete, who is known to be especially tough year in and year out, a contest which is known to usually have adverse weather, or as in this case, a course which is known to be one with a lot of climbing.  A disproportionate amount of up hill, which by the time the finish is crossed which is 600 feet higher than the start, the sentiment is that you should be at an elevation that only commercial jets regularly attain.  The Cow Country Classic was host to the state championship road race the previous year, and subsequently also my first USA Cycling sanctioned race.  As such this course holds the memory of a 3rd place finish from the previous year and the dread that is felt in the very fibers that support my 6'5" frame that is induced with thinking back on the suffering that the climbing produced last year.  Now it is time for round two.

After the slog of the previous race two weeks prior in Bear Lake with the rain and cold, I have come in preparation this week with a new rain coat shoe covers to help fend off cold and wet in the chance that the rain shows up again this week.  After a 4 hour drive up through central Montana we arrive at the start line located right on the Missouri river.  As the fellow racers start pulling in, a number of familiar faces are seen and the initial sizing up of the field commences.  After sign in the discussion amongst all the racers is the expected difficulty and expectation of climbing to be encountered in the hours to come.  Yet, thanks be to God, while there will be suffering induced from the climbs, we all suffer together and more or less the same.  Yet an advantage that I have is that I have raced this course before, while most of my competition has not.  I know where the hills are, and about how long they are.

The initial feel of the day is casual, as we, my support crew (wife and four kids) have arrived early enough to not have to rush like it is the final 200 meters of the race before a single riders leaves off. So a methodical warm up, and prep of all the race equipment ensues. Spending time on the CycleOps Fluid 2 trainer, to get the legs firing and up to speed feels good.  As the muscles begin to wake from their stupor of a 4 hour car drive and engage in the necessary sequence to turn the crank and deliver power to the rear wheel and thus propel bike and rider forward all that fills my mind is "Thank You Father God for the opportunity to worship You on the back of a bike today!!"

Once the legs and lungs reach an equilibrium of sustainable warmth to put induce a level of suffering that hopefully the other competitors will not be able to sustain, a quick clean up of all equipment and wipe down of the bike and it is off to the road, for the final stretch of warm up.  "Thank You Lord, that it looks like it is going to be a beautiful clear day for a race!!"  A few sprints, and few sustained efforts to ensure that legs and lungs are fully opened and tuned into what is about to happen and it is to the starting area to wait the final instructions.  

Roll call, and course instructions and we are off.  Initially the race takes a 3 mile decent into Wolf Creek, MT after crossing the Missouri river in the first 1/4 miles.  Yet as proof the Lord has a sense of humor no sooner had the peloton crossed the bridge over the Missouri river than the few clouds that were about, exploded into an torrential down pour.  "Not again, not another race in the rain, and I left my rain slicker back at the car!! Lord, thank You that it isn't dreadfully cold at least!!" 

Last year, not knowing what to expect I left off at the front of the peloton, this year have learned from past experiences, I hold about 3 wheels back and let some of the other first timers do the work.  Although this plan sounds good as soon as we get into town no one really knows where to go as the lead car is to meet us on the other side.  So to the front it is, and through town we go.  After the town the grade switches direction and a gentle rise for about 8 km ensues, nothing spectacular (except the scenery) as follow up a creek bottom past farms and fields.  "Wait a second, no one has tried to take over the lead spot!!! It has been 3 1/2 miles, someone should have tried to pull"  So first things first, I swing across the road to open up and allow the peloton to move forward yet just like an army of ants where the front goes the rest follows, even with a decelerated pace no one wants to take the lead yet.  Finally getting tired of this, SPRINT!!!!!   After a good 30 second effort, and a look back, not only is there a gap, but it is almost 200 yards and no one is chasing. Really!?  I do not want to do the next 45 miles as a time trial.  SO, slow it up a touch it is, but also to regain any expenditure of effort, for just as the peloton comes up so does the road, at a good 4% grade for a little over 3 miles.

Not wanting to burn myself at the start of the race, I choose not to attack at this point. In fact my strategy is to make my attack at the final turn 19 miles from the finish line.  Yet to no avail, upon the initial climb, which turned into a suffer fest for most of the rest of the peloton, the lead group is decreased from 32 to 5.  "Thank You Jesus, a gap and other racers to share the load with."  Although we are a group out ahead the sentiment is still the same, keep the big guy in front, hide behind him.  Playing the game again, of guttering the rest of the group, and even slowing up a bit, not enough to allow the gap to close but to induce some concern that it could, I hear from the second or third rider back "I know what you are doing, and we are not going to get in front, you are a lion and I am not going to get in front of a hungry lion!!!"  Turns out that came from one of the guys I have raced with and dropped in three of the past four races and his goal is not to get dropped today. 

By the grace of the Lord, a pace line does form and we begin to share the load just in time for the 3rd climb of the day.  While it is not a major climb it does induce a significant effort and burning of the legs. And come to find out another gap!!!  Now it is just down to two.  The other, it is his first road race.  Looking back, I see myself in that situation only a year prior.  Thank you Lord for how far You have brought me in this past year!!  There is some banter back and forth as we form a plan of attack, which as it turns out no matter the final decision, the legs do the talking and as such this means that I will do most of the pulling.  Yet, while the pace remains moderate,  I ensure that it is just below focused conversation pace.  The idea being that I am not killing my legs this early in case the group decides to catch up, but also to let the guy I am riding with that I still have more in reserve in case he thinks about doing anything funny, like breaking. 

The second leg of the race enters with a fast right hand turn and no sign of the chase group.  Still to let up only invites the group to gain and with the race only covering slightly less than half the total distance there is still a large question mark at the finish.  Thinking back to this stretch of race the year prior the climbs were long and the descents short.  Suffering has a way of making the pain and suffering worse and the easy diminished.  Maybe it is just perception, or the suffering that was endured through the off season and early season at the direction of Equip Flamme Rouge was paying off in gains that were at once thought unattainable, either way the climbs were met with an equal descent.  And while the climbs were not easy, both the legs cranking out watts upon watts and the lungs striving to fill with air like an engorged balloon ready to burst with even the thought of more air, they were not insurmountable.

 

Approaching the third and final leg of the course and the remaining 19 miles to the finish line I begin to realize that the wind is going to be a foe and not a friend on the final stretch.  My plan at this point is to carry the other rider into the last climb and drop him there, so that he can likewise have solo victory and in his first road race!!  Yet as we lean into the turn, inside knee steering me like a rudder of a warship, and the acceleration into the mile long up hill grade into the wind a determination overcomes me with a sudden desire to suffer so that this up grade is attacked at the same pace as what was coming into it.  At the top of the hill the course official notifies me that the gap is at least a minute.  "Wait, 5 miles ago it was better than 3 minutes!!!  What happened"  A quick look back and the other rider has been dropped!!  (At least I didn't try to carry on a conversation about picking up the pace with him only to find that I was talking to the air)

 

The wave of determination, which I know was fueled by the hand of the Lord as it was a burst of energy not my own, only grew, knowing that there really was only one more big climb and then the short up hill finish.  Push, Push, Push, Don't let up, Don't look back, Drive, Drive...  The last 18 miles slip through the fingers of time almost with out memory as the elation and focus work together propel bike and rider closer to the finish.  Yet 5 miles from the finish after the final climb a dread begins to grow in my mind "are they catching me...where are they..." Like a soldier constantly looking over his shoulder to ensure that his opponent in this fray has not gained an unnoticed advantage upon him, about every 150 meters there is a panicked look back and a few more watts are cranked out.  The final climb to the finish is welcome reprieve to the fear of being over taken.  Yet as with most things in life, this fear was completely unfounded, as after a half hearted sprint across the line, more for training purposes than anything else, and a congratulations from the best team manager anyone could ask for my wife who surprised me there, and the official, it is still four minutes until the next group comes across the line.

 

"Thank you Lord for an awesome race, and great riders to share it with and for holding the bulk of the rain off during the race!!!" 

 

After watching all the other groups come and race across the line, I go to remount my BMC promachine for the 6 mile cool down back to the start, the heavens open and a deluge cleanses both sweat and tears from all who raced!!