Waldrems Report Part One

Because of my utmost slacking of writing, I am going to give you a twofer today because each deserves its on space in the WWW.

As I mentioned last week, I felt flat all week after Schönaich. I think battled with a small infection because I was feeling a little bit sick towards the end of the week. Everything was just lethargic and heavy. Saturday it rained which kept me indoors on the trainer. Sunday arrived, and I was keen to put in a good effort on what is being called the hardest road race of the year. I guess the attrition rate of close to 50% gives it some justification. I knew when I awoke that the day was just not mine. But you have to put those thoughts aside and ride through it. Everyone has their bad days, even the best. One sees the depth of his strength when he goes deep on the hardest of days. The course was a 2.5km circuit with good crowd support, lots of wind, and a nasty little uphill section. It was an uphill section, not a climb, but for the life of me I could never find a positive rhythm to make it up. From the "top" it was a winding golf course path to another uphill section then it was hard left and fast non-flat/non-uphill section into a nasty crosswind. The crosswind finally turned to a headwind which provided some relief but not for long as the laps remained fast and the "uphill" section seemed to be coming every few minutes. On lap 19, with teammate Leif in the winning break, another teammate attacked with a few others. I sat ready to counter if other moves decided to go. I finally made some aggressive riding. Two riders went off the left side. I used the right gutter as best I could to shelter myself from the left to right crosswind. Without really considering my chances or how I felt, I put in huge effort to cover the attacks going off the front. I guess I was contributing some team work. After controlling the move, my options remained dire. They always say that you have so many matches to burn in a race. I think I burned the whole book with that move but retrospectively, I needed to cover the move for my teammates who were riding much better. The next lap, the leash that I thought I had on the diminishing peloton began to stretch and on the uphill section, it snapped. I had nothing.

I was determined to keep my effort going and not throw in the towel. For the life of me, I can't quit. I can't pull out. I can't give in to the ruthlessness of the race. It wasn't two years ago where it all could have ended for me. For me digging deep and finding that dark place of pain is all a critical part to my development as a cyclist and most importantly as a person. Life throws so many obstacles at you. One must accept challenges and attack them head on.

As I continued to race my bike on the course, i was eventually passed by the winning break of 5 riders. Did it bother me to get passed? A little, but I kept making a go at it. Each lap passed and I was beginning to see clapping and hearing my name from people who didn't know me. The support each time I received from the team and from my adopted family, The Sanwalds, didn't go unappreciated. I definitely wasn't the happiest person. But I wasn't sad either. I was angry, frustrated, and focused. The look I had probably worried a few people who know me because it was not my normal, easy-going charm look. Maybe I'm a bit of a perfectionist. I think its just my way of dealing with things sometimes. I know I have good fitness. Sunday just was not my day. It was one of those times were I just needed to think and figure things out on m own. I guess you could say that I needed to go into "Matthew's Little Place." Psychologists would probably disagree with my practices but its how I deal. After the race, I went for a 1.5hr ride to think and do my thing. When I returned, i was better. Bike riding does that for me. Alone on my bike with only the voices in my mind to contend with i was able to digest the race. I've said before that I do my best thinking on the bike. I believe its likely do to the sensory awareness and the ability to focus.

When I got home, I was completely exhausted. But my head was clear and all was good. That night we enjoyed some delicious spaghetti bolgnese and conversation on the terrace deck. All was good.

Chow,
Bearclaw