I knew starting out that I was in for some form of self-flagellation, and I never batted an eyelash at the implication. I can suck up just about any form of punishment and keep laughing...but do I really want to? These thoughts were swept into the recesses of my mind as I drove north on I-17 under an awakening sky of peach, vermilion and baby blue.....
Arriving at the start...I was blown away at the parking lot...it was full with racers. I knew from the night before that this event had hit its max of 74 riders...but it took a while for this to sink in.....just 2 years ago...this event had about 15 folks showing up....another sign of my spanking, just a warm glow on the horizon which represents my peachy and tilted optimism.....
Off the bat, this ride gives you 1,000 vertical feet of spankdown in the first 7 miles....tack on another 13 miles and you've gained 3,000 vertical feet. As I contemplated this fact against what types of rides I do better at...I started awakening to the fact that it doesn't really matter.....I was sucking because of my gluttony. Contrasting this were many of the folks that put some good time in since the AZT in the spring....J-Bake all smiles mid-way through the climb....
Topping out at the entrance to Antelope Canyon singletrack....I wanted to puke...and I'm not a puker. I'm quite certain that it was because I was drinking from a 4-month old bottle of Carbo Rocket Half-Evil which I had left in the back of my fridge....it looked ok to me in the morning when I left. Too bad I neglected to notice the black slime growing in it until I was deep in the climb....lightheadedness pursued through the rest of the ride....here I was only halfway into the event....and I was doing it all wrong.....lucky for me, the landscape provided a palliative course of action....
...and in this remedy, others shared in the joy of a hard earned descent.....
....a descent that turned former frowns, upside down.....
Many hours later....my upside down frown got turned over again as I found myself in the pain cave....cramping, light-headed, knee aching and bonking.....until I found this gem. I had been doing math in my head since Bumble Bee Rd....figuring out bail points, mileage, time, elevation gained....all against remaining mileage, water and stats on route. I hate the term DNF.... because it rhymes with quitter....but I was feeling the sweet relief in the possibility my suffering could end...until I found this. I quickly bucked up and remembered why I was here.....life sucks....some moments more vidid than others. The sweet relief and relish comes sometimes in the memory of the beautiful moments; moments which share only a flash within our consciousness as we labor to make it through the day.
The labor is what gets us to memory lane...and as I sit here remembering the ride....the views....the epic descents....and yes, the hell I inflicted upon myself to avoid three letters.....I see clearly in the usual suspects below, the reason we all do it. Thanks to all my fellow riders for reminding me that joy in the greater things comes in the struggle. In the vacuum of my nightmare, I had sought the struggle merely out of a sense of purpose.....I had long ago become numb to it and needed a break. This ride has reminded me that my nightmare is over and that I now seek the struggle for all the right reasons....I want it.....
