Flattening the Hancock Flat 50


 

Flattening the Hancock Flat 50

Hancock Flat 50: Veni, vidi, vici—or for those who aren’t familiar with the Latin: I came, I saw, I conquered. That is how I felt yesterday as I sat on the steps and watched the people shuffle by in downtown Greenfield. This week has been full of accomplishments I'm eager to share, but I must begin here. I'm incredibly proud of myself, and not solely for completing the task.

Getting Up and Going: Go Do It! Part of me was never really sure I was going to Hancock County on Saturday morning. The distance from home was significant. Traveling that distance alone, it just felt like there wasn’t skin in the game. I wanted to do and finish a ride. However, I had always left the door open so that if I slept in and missed it, shit happened. Not going to this event would have been a huge mistake. The course was awesome—maybe the best-marked course I have been on. There were five rest stops for a 50-mile ride; that's really amazing. Since I was already awake and putting on sunscreen at 4:45 AM, leaving at 5:00 AM was not a problem. I found out I was not only ready to leave on time, but I was excited to be going. I won before I left the house.

A Well-Organized Ride The ride was fun. As noted, the course was well-marked. People were friendly, even though no one called out as they passed. I have gotten used to it. I engaged several riders in conversation, like the lady on the triathlon bike when I asked her how she enjoyed riding it. Then we spoke of triathlons we had done and things to come in the future (more on this in upcoming weeks). The organizers managed and stocked the water stops well. Bags and bags of PB&Js—you really can’t beat that. There was almost 1K of climbing, but it was just rollers, and I was ready for them and worked my gears like a pro. The other really nice thing was that the police were everywhere, blocking roads to protect the riders. It was great.

At the end of the ride, there was a nice little party. I think people partied there until 10:30 PM last night, but I was out by 12:30 PM—I had a Kona dog waiting for me at home. Each entry came with a drink ticket and a food item. I had a great slice of pizza and a breadstick post-ride. I redeemed the drink ticket for a Vanilla Coke Zero. Is there anything better than a Vanilla Coke Zero? Not that this writer can think of.

50-Mile PR! Flattening the Hancock Flat 50 is what I say I did! That is because I set a 50-mile personal record for time. Finishing the ride in 3 hours and 33 minutes was an utter surprise to me. Perhaps the bigger surprise was that I averaged 15 miles per hour over 50 miles. Focusing on my cadence allowed me to accomplish this. My goal was to maintain a cadence of 80+. In the end, I averaged 79 RPM over 50 miles. That made me happy. Yesterday, I felt really strong. Those feelings of strength helped decide my near-term and long-term future.

There Is Always One There is always one person at an event who can’t accept being passed by me. Half-marathons rarely went by without me passing someone who would look at the big guy passing them and suddenly surge back ahead. Then they would falter again, and I would go around them. Acceptance would not register for them, so they would work harder to pass me again. Naturally, I would just smile to myself and end up going around them once more.

The same thing happened on Saturday. A rider was really struggling. You could tell because he could barely hold his line, bobbing and weaving all over the course. My guess is he needed to be sagged in, but was too much of a muttonhead to do the smart thing. While my day was 100% normal the day after, he was likely cramping, sore, and sick. Two major differences between me and this guy: 1) my dedication to my training, diet, and health, and 2) I never changed my cadence.

Just like on the marathon courses of yesterday and the bike ride on Saturday, I kept my cadence consistent. I just kept spinning at 79–87 RPMs. He would get pissed off that I passed him and fly by me screaming "Left!" in my ear. I didn’t speed up; I just kept going at the same RPMs. I really hoped he would pull over at the last rest stop—the one 6 miles from the finish—and die with dignity. He didn’t. He kept going, and I smiled to myself thinking, well, he is going to get passed, and he will eventually realize he can’t keep up with the big fella.

I was right. At the 46-mile mark, I pulled even with him. He pedaled like hell to keep up, while I just started singing “Dire Wolf” by the Grateful Dead out loud. I kept my cadence consistent, and eventually he fell behind. This time, he realized he didn’t have what it took to take me back. Singing the Dead and spinning hard, I crossed the finish with him nowhere to be found. A good training plan and taking care of your body really make all the difference in the world on race day. So, to that person, I just have to say: “Suck it!” I don’t mean to be mean, but well... “Suck it!”

Pride Proud is the word that comes to mind when I think about yesterday’s ride. From getting up and out the door, to riding hard, to talking to people on the course—it was a really great day for me and the perfect punctuation to a solid week.    


Photos from Race Day:










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