Out of the zone

Most of the time when you hear of "the zone" regarding sports and athletics, it's considered good to be "in it." You're fast, you're focused, you're on a mission. This post isn't about that. I'm writing about the other zone, the comfort zone, with respect to training. I don't think it's just me; most of us have certain training routines we've grown used to, and these are what we stick with, clinging to whatever real or imagined benefits these regimens bring to us. There are some positives that come from knowing what you can handle, and how you'll adapt to it. So long as the events which test you are also the same ones you've done before, then your comfort zone training should take you back to wherever it is you go when you race. It's also nice to know you're training won't push you past the brink and into injury, or even just the super-fatigue and accompanying super-low personal productivity that sometimes happens when we train too hard (not that I would know). But what if you want to take things up a level? You'll probably need to do more. Exactly what, well, that's the subject of countless books and online debates. If you're at a loss, you won't need to look too far to find an online coach willing to take your money for some guidance... I'm an unguided type, and I'm not even sure where it is I want to go, but I'm pretty sure that in order to get there I'm going to need to step outside my comfort zone.

When Hilljunkie invited me to go on his annual Six Gaps Ride, I was like "you've got to be shitting me." I'd read about it before, and to me it just seemed insane. I may or may not have ridden 130 miles at a time before, but I've been close (I think I hit 122 on a Jaffrey turnaround with Ted Richards, and I also rode from home to Worcester and back without a cyclometer, then there was D2R2). Ditto for the 14,500 feet of climbing in one ride, as D2R2 numbers are subject to some debate. Regardless, this kind of ride, with long, steep climbs, is not my thing. I have enough trouble finishing the App Gap stage of the GMSR, and that's only two of the six gaps. This ride lies way outside my comfort zone... And Jansen's a fucking animal. So I guess I should accept the invite and go.

In preparation, I started going out and riding a few hours after each road race, Hilljunkie-style. Dougie even came with me last week at Sunapee. I think the motherfucker played possum a little bit too, in order to boost my confidence so I wouldn't back out on 6 gaps at the last minute, ensuring his chance to make me yet another one of his victims. I've probably had more 90 mile days this year than ever before at this point in the season. Five hours is still a long way from eight or nine, but at least I had a decent base. Then I had to come up with a bike. Doug and Brett told me horror stories about Lincoln Gap, allegedly the steepest paved mile of road in the United States, but Punk Ass Colin, in his blog entry about his six gaps adventure, tackled the beast in a 39x27, without traversing. But he's young and strong. Jansen said "something close to one to one" and when someone with his palmares in the hilliest New England races starts talking about, as Reuter calls them, "Nancy-Boy" gears like that, I listen. I know, get to the point - OK, commuter bike, took the fenders off, used normal wheels and 25 mm tires, 30-42-52 standard Ultegra triple and an 11-32 LX cassette. Put on squeaky Look pedals so that I could use my plush padded Northwaves instead of my light, low profile but give me hot foot after four hours Rocket 7s. Ten kg exactly, ready to ride without bottles.

So the ride. Rather than reinvent the wheel and go into great detail about each climb and descent, I'll let you read Doug and Colin's writeups if you want that. I'll talk about our ride. The weather could not make up it's mind so I wore long sleeves and knee warmers, which meant no so-pro bronze farmer tan from this all day ride. I also brought a thin team jacket for the descents. At times it got pretty warm, and other times it was pretty cold. There was a steady wind from the north most of the day.

I'll give myself a "C" for my performance. My climbing sucked. I never got in the groove, and could not hold the fast guys on any of the big climbs. At a certain gradient, I'd have to let go. In the early going, this was planned, as I can't go to the mat in the first half of a long ride without paying for it later. I tried to let these kids slug it out on the first few gaps in hopes of coming on strong over the finishing cols, but that didn't work out. On the plus side, I had no real issues with finishing. I wasn't totally wasted when it was over, and I felt ok today, doing another 90k ride in what turned out to be perfect Sunday weather on the Rt 100-Tyson Road-Rt 106 loop near Ludlow and Woodstock VT.

Brandon Gap we went the opposite way the Killington race went. The only woman on the ride got taken down about 5k into it when Dan Massucco (there's a name from races past) stood up as we chatted and wheels overlapped. Slightly shaken, she got up and proceeded to kick my ass on every single one of the climbs. I was pretty much a back of the packer. Even still, on Brandon I went harder than I wanted to go that early. Then we had a ragged chaseline going past Lake Dunmore. Some of these guys were killer strong non-racer types, you know the kind who speed up by 5 kph when they pull. Twice as annoying when you're next in line... At least I had the satisfaction of watching the worst perp put his foot down on Lincoln Gap. Anyhow, Middlebury Gap sucked for me. I tried to pace myself, but it just sucked. I should have stopped to take off my jacket, but whatever, I never got a rhythm going, and I think everyone on the ride passed me before the top. This isn't even that steep, but I was in my easiest gears. I say "easiest" meaning lowest ratio. Oddly enough, in a perverse-reverse Lemond, it seems that it doesn't get any easier, you just go slower. At least the descent was good, but then we had a prolonged stop while Clara got bandaged up, and my legs turned to stone.

The trip over Granville Gulf was OK for me, my critical gradient never was exceeded. Then we hit Lincoln Gap. I don't want to fall behind, so I deftly take my extra bottle of water out of my pocket and refill my downtube bottle. Then I remove my jacket, no handing on the fairly steep lower slopes. Then I sprint back on to the group. I burned half a match, but I'm on. Then they all pull over to remove their jackets... Fuckers. We keep going, and most of them pass me. Then we get to the infamous Lincoln Gap here we go, take a shovel and start digging your grave now steepest asstest mile in the world. Yeah, it was steep. Basically it looks just like Ascutney. Allegedly it's steeper. Maybe it was. I suffered, but at least I had the gears. My cadence was still low, but I could sit a little here and there. Dougie was at the top with a camera so I popped it in the 52 for the photo op.

Everyone talks about the descents on this ride like they're so heinous. I don't know, they didn't make much of an impression on me. It is funny though, as going down Brandon Gap it seems all fast and stuff. By the end of the day you're used to it and going 70 kph around a blind corner with one hand on the bars and the other stuffing a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in your face seems like nothing. FWIW, I thought the Tyson Road descent today was more fun than any of them, except maybe App Gap.

Speaking of which, I hate climbing App Gap. Having sandbagged the first three climbs (well, as much as possible), when we left the Lincoln Country Store (where I got a donut!) it was time to get to work. I was under the impression there would be no more regroupings, so I'd better keep up with the leaders. If you read Dougie's entry, then yes, it's true, I'd seen a map and noted a road that cut across from Lincoln and came out 3/4 of the way up Baby Gap, but Jansen was having none of that. So all the way to the valley floor we went, turning north on 17 straight into the wind. I felt good and did a backwards Moninger shuffle, staying at the front of the line for an extra pull. Rutledge on the other hand, I guess doesn't like wind. Whatever the unit of time that 1/100 of a nanosecond is, well, that is about ten times longer than he stayed on the front. Didn't matter, as within a few miles we're on Baby Gap. And these assholes are drilling it. What can I say. I tried. I tried hard, because this being the only one of the gaps I'd previously experienced riding in the direction we were doing them today, so I knew about the 10k or so of flat/downhill between Baby Gap and the hellish end of App Gap proper. Staying on until the flat would mean a ticket to ride across, just like in a race. Sure, I'd be dropped on the numerous switchbacks at the end, but I'd lose way less time. And it was not to be. Just like every other climb, I came off on one of the last little rises before the big flat spot. This time, I even dug down and made the mad, futile chase back to the group, rejoining just in time to blow sky high when they drilled the next rise. Buh-bye. Another solo ascent, with company only coming from behind just in time to girl me by the summit. Mad tuck and psycho descent for revenge. And lo and behold, they were regrouping at the bottom.

This was the last chance to bail out and make it a four gapper. It was probably only about 40k straight back down Route 100 to get to the car, and it would still total a respectable 100+ miles. But we came to do six gaps, not four. The stop was long though. And then they start a mad romp toward Roxbury gap. My legs felt like shit. Once again, I popped on a small rise before the last flat, winding up alone between groups. For some reason, I didn't think these last two gaps were going to be that bad. I guess Roxbury wasn't horrible. It's dirt at the top, but it was fine, except swarms of black flies must have mistook my pathetic carcass for dead road kill. And of course, fifty meters from the top, you-know-who catches and passes me. At least none of the others did. And again, I bomb the fucking gravel descent for revenge.

Out on Route 12a, the group is again stopped for fuel. Fuck that, I'm not letting my legs tighten up again. I fill my bottles and go, taking a head start. I know Route 12a, and it's pretty flat, and I've got a tailwind. I still figure they'll catch me soon, but I've got no idea how long they stayed there. I'm feeling good now, but of course it's flat. I make a wrong turn in Randolph, but quickly get back on track. I hear a freight train whistle. I hope it's two miles long and they get stuck waiting for it. I stop to pee. I get going again, and make it to Rochester Gap road, or whatever it is. The sign says Rochester, 10 miles. I'm guessing it's five up and five down. It starts up. Now I don't feel so good anymore. And here comes the group. In plain English, Rochester gap sucks. Go ride it yourself and you'll see what I mean. The descent though, maybe it's because I knew the ride was almost over, but it was fun. By now it's 6:30 pm, so I'm watching out for deer at 70 kph. I don't want to hit one and drop my sandwich...

And we're done. For me, it was 8:10 ride time, 9:10 total. I had 210k (130 miles) on my odo. Dougie had 7:20 ride time? Damn. And I thought I spent way too much time at the stops. Anyway, I'm pleased that in spite of my Nancy-Boy gearing, I still finished in an hour less than Hans Snowflake did on his attempt last summer. This ride was outside my comfort zone for sure. I'm not quite sure what good this type of adventure will be as race training. I'm hoping that with the easy gears at least I was pedaling at a "normal" cadence most of the time, at whatever power it is I can put out on a ride with 55k of severe climbing in it. Do it again? Yeah, probably, although I've run several four and five gap versions of this through my mind, and think they may be a lot more fun (i.e. possible to ride at closer to race pace with less stops) than the nine hour enduro slog. And if you're wondering how I come up with five gaps, well, it would involve doing a U-turn at the top of one of them. Or we could go completely insane and work Sherburne Pass as well as Smuggler's Notch into the equation and make this a 24 hour affair. But that's someone else's zone. Thanks for reading if you made it this far.