Race Report: Dismal Dash Time Trial

The Dismal Dash is an accurately-named time trial occurring next to the Great Dismal Swamp near Portsmouth, VA.  It is not named for the swamp*, and is sponsored by All About Bikes in Chesapeake, VA.

[*Well, maybe it is.  But it shouldn't be.]

This was my first time trial, and first competition of any kind on a bicycle, so while I have nothing to compare it to, I can tell you the 2009 Dismal Dash offered an hour or more of damp, cold hell.  It was awesome!

It’s difficult to put together a race report, although you’d think it would be easy.  After all, I simply rode my bicycle straight out from the start for 12.5 miles, and straight back for 12.5 miles.  (Actually, there was one 90-degree turn.)  But there was a lot going on, which is to say I was suffering through this one ride in virtually every manner I’ve experienced in all the rides I’ve ever taken.

Before I describe what happened, I have to give major thanks to my coach Jordan Whiley.  Jordan got me ready for this event, and I owe the positive results to him.  I take responsibility for the bad parts.

I competed in the Cat-5 race, and finished 23rd out of 38.  My day started at about 8:50 AM with warmups on the sidewalk, under the shelter of a run-down strip mall that served as home base for the race.  I did ten minutes of easy spinning, then 15 minutes with progressively harder spinning bringing my HR from Zone 2 to Zone 4 at the end of the warmup.  Then I rolled over to the start (with Jordan) in the cold rain, and took off at 9:28 AM.

My rig was a 2006 Scattante R-560 road bike with Forte aerobars.  Scattante is the brand name license by Performance Bikes.  It’s your basic road bike, intended for centuries and fitness riding.  It’s heavy (21 lbs.), so it has a triple crank.  I had standard Forte rims, and was I wearing an ordinary helmet.  I’m not using my equipment to make any excuses for my performance, that’s just what I had for this race.

All through my run, the rain varied from a light drizzle to something just short of steady rain.  The temperature was in the low 40s, with a slight headwind (~5 mph?) coming back.  The route was mostly flat, with several false flats and some broken pavement in several places.  There was one 90 degree turn, about 6 miles from the start.  The course was not closed.  Times were recorded with a chip attached to my front skewer.  I used a Cat Eye V2c for my ride data and a separate Cat Eye heart rate monitor (wrist watch).

My start went well, and I was in the gear I needed and positioned on the aerobars about 40 seconds after taking off.  It took about 60 seconds for my glasses to get so wet I couldn’t see out of them.  For the rest of the ride I just peered over the top of the rims to see where I was going.  It wasn’t too bad for most of the trip.

About seven minutes in I was passed by the guy who started behind me, who I think wound up winning the Cat-5 group.  (I was passed a second time a few minutes after the turn-around.)

At about 13 minutes I looked down at my computer for a time and speed check, and that was when I first realized this was going to be a long, cold, wet, hard ride.  The first 25 minutes were okay, but at about that point my legs started to crack.  I didn’t blow up, but that was when it became clear I was going to struggle to maintain my pace for the entire route.

Not long after that, I started to lose my concentration a bit.  Or, more accurately, I became a lot more conscious of how much this hurt as opposed to just blocking out the pain and zoning in on my legs and my breathing.  Two things particularly stood out.  First, I couldn’t let go of the aerobars.  My fingers ached if I tried to unwrap them, especially on my left hand.  Second, my toes were so wet and cold they were basically in constant pain the for the rest of the race.  My legs hurt, my abdomen hurt, and at one point my left shoulder started to ache. (I have no idea why.  It didn’t last.)

As for my heart rate, I stayed in Zone 4 the entire first half of the race, between 175 and 185 bpm.

I was definitely suffering before I hit the turn-around, but things got ugly for real after that point.

To start with, I was convinced coming out of the turn that my rear brake caliper had become uncentered and one of the shoes was dragging my rim.  There could not have been much of a wind, but as soon as I came through the turn-around I felt like I was pedaling in a swimming pool.  For the next 20 minutes, a little voice in my head told me to stop the bike and open up the rear caliper to release the shoe from the rim.  Make no mistake: at one point it took a serious mental effort to not do this.

Additionally, through the second part of the ride I couldn’t find a gear I was comfortable with.  With my glasses covered with rain drops and fog, I couldn’t tell what cog I was on, but it rarely felt like I was in the right gear.  About five minutes after the turn-around, it felt like the road was tilted upward.

I was also getting light-headed.  At one point I mistook a mailbox down the road for a stranded cyclist.  At other points, I was hitting small pot holes that I should have noticed long before I was on top of them.  Eventually, I got so tired that my cadence dropped and my speed dropped and I started to think everyone in the field would pass me, but I didn’t care.  I just wanted it to be over.  The site of open roads, with no tree cover and no end in sight, became very discouraging.

It was at this point that I started to cuss.  A lot.  Think of Scarface on crack.  I didn’t have any visions of chainsaws in the shower, but I become quite fond of the F-word about 5 minutes after the turn-around.  There you go.

I developed a cramp in my right left about 15 minutes from the finish.  I had to slow a bit to get through it.  I was afraid if it got really bad it would take me off the bike.

Through a large portion of the second half I had a strong urge to come off the aerobars and ride in the drops—probably some part of brain was asking for more oxygen.  It took a lot to fight this off.  I was also tempted to switch to the middle (39 tooth) chain ring and just ride out the second half at a century pace.  Why was I thinking this?  No action would have been more idiotic.

Probably the weirdest thing about the second half of the ride was my heart rate.  Several times it dropped out of Zone 4, evidenced by a “beep” from my heart rate monitor.  When the watch beeped at me I told my legs to speed up since I apparently could go harder, but they wouldn’t listen.  The only response I got out of my legs came when the finish line was in sight.  After exclaiming “Holy F***!!,” I was able to switch up one gear and come over a line just a bit faster than I had been moving the last 15 minutes or so.

Finally, I was finished.  It’s difficult to describe how I felt at the end of the ride.  My entire body was shaking, and not from the cold.  My legs felt like jello, and when I first came to a stop it was difficult to clip out of the damn pedal.  I was happy, sort of.  But I was too tired to feel happy.  I think I was just glad the suffering had ended.

The cold really set in when I got off the bike and into the truck.  It felt like I was in an ice bath, until I got into some dry clothes. For reasons never explained to me, Jordan hid the damn keys like the treasure from the Goonies, so it took forever to start the truck and turn on the heat.

It took about an hour to get really comfortable, but my legs ache even know (several hours after finishing).

And that’s it.  The conditions were miserable, but I’m glad I competed.  I’ll never forget my first race.

Overall, there are several things I’m very happy about.  I had a decent start, I made good turns at the first 90-degree turn and at the turn-around, and I had a good start from the turn-around.  I rode a steady pace the first half, despite the suffering that started about 25 minutes in.  As bad as the second half was, I never gave in and stayed on the bars the entire way.  I also met my speed goal.  But I made some mistakes too.  Coming back to the 90-degree turn, I slowed down too much and lost time.  On a short zig-zag portion of the course, I stopped pedaling (going out and coming back) without any good reason.  I didn’t maintain a positive attitude the entire way,  and at one point didn’t care if anyone passed me or even if I finished.  I need to work on these things.  I also need to work on my leg strength.  When my heart rate dropped, I should have been able to raise my cadence or switch to a heavier gear.

Stats:

• Time: started at 9:28 AM.
• Conditions: Rain, 42 degrees, light wind.
• Finished 23rd out of 38, Cat-5.
• Number of cyclists who passed me: 2.
• Number I passed: 2.
• Distance: 25.38 miles.
• Time: 1:15:04 (1.25 hours).
• Max speed: 23.6 mph.
• Average speed: 20.3 mph.
• Max cadence: 114 rpm.
• Average cadence: 88 rpm.
• Max heart rate: 188 bpm.
• Average heart rate: 178 bpm.
• Number of times I mistook a mailbox for a stranded cyclist: 1.
• Number of times I imagined my rear brake was dragging my rim: 9.
• Number of times I prayed for God to kill me: 37.
• Number of times I used the F-word: 1,726.