A brevet is not race. The way it works is that you have a time limit to complete the distance. Anyone who completes the distance in the allotted time wins. There is no first, second, or third place. The results are listed alphabetically, not by time. For example, if you want to complete a 200 km brevet, you would have 13.5 hours to do so. There are typically checkpoints, or controles (more French), along the way where you get your brevet card signed for proof that you are indeed completing the route. Typical brevet distances are 200, 300, 400, 600, and even 1200 km.
George and I became excited when we learned of this group of people that shared in our enthusiasm of cycling. What fun we thought it would be to participate in one of these events together. 200 km in 13.5 hours would be a feat, but certainly doable. We would have to maintain an average speed of 9.2 mph to complete the distance within the time limit. No problem. So, we registered for one. April 10th was the Princeton 200 km brevet beginning in Plainsboro, New Jersey. My mom and I drove out to Sam and George's place in New York on Friday, the 9th.
The brevet started at 7 am. According to Google maps, it should have taken George and I one hour and forty minutes to get there. We left at 5 am. Getting stuck in traffic never even crossed our minds. Had we known that New York City was performing construction on the George Washington Bridge and closing down all lanes except one, we would have adjusted our time of departure, route, or both to accommodate this inconvenience. Instead, we sat silently in our car nonplussed. We were not moving and watching the minutes go by.
We finally got over the bridge and were going to be late to our first brevet. At this point, I was reminded of the last post to this blog concerning my mentality. Here was George and I, racing to get somewhere. Driving well over the speed limit, cursing every driver and red light along the way. We were tense and in a rush. Hardly the mentality of a rambling cyclist. Even when we did finally get to the starting point, there was no time to waste. We pumped up our tires and were on our way. It was now 7:45 and we were well behind the 80 other riders taking part in the event.
The terrain was hilly. More hilly than either of us had anticipated. We had made it 20 miles in approximately 2 hours before we stopped for some food. In our rush this morning, we had failed to eat anything. Not a smart strategy for an endurance event. Bobbi's Deli in Sergeantsville saved us. We filled our gas tanks there and continued on our way.
Even at this point, after having been riding for 2 hours, George and I were not quite relaxed. We had a late start and it had been a grueling, slow pace for the first 20 miles. We wondered to ourselves if perhaps we had bitten off more than we could chew.
Sixteen hilly and windy miles later we arrived at the first controle. It was now around 11 am. I sat down to take my shoe off and work some feeling back into my left big toe. While we were resting, George called the man running the brevet to notify him that we planned to continue riding the course but, would be way behind and he need not worry. After a few minutes, a gentleman came up to us and asked if we were part of the Princeton 200k. When we said we were, he led us into a building across the street where there was food and drinks for all the cyclists. We were the only ones at the checkpoint at this time. I had a banana and some Gatorade.
I asked the man how the next leg of the route would be and he told us it would be the most difficult part. George and I looked at each other. We had climbed enough hills already today. George said, "I am already proud of myself." I was too. To learn that the most challenging climbs were next concerned us. We had a cue sheet instructing us which way to go. At mile 36, we were on the second of six pages of directions. It was a bit overwhelming. As we walked gingerly back outside to our bikes, George and I knew it; we were not going to finish the brevet.
As I looked through the directions, I noticed that on page 5 they lead you to this exact location and then along a different route back to the starting point. I suggested we skip the middle third and ride the last third back to Plainsboro. George agreed and that is what we did.
We totaled 80 miles (128 km) on the day. It took us about 9 hours to complete (we rode for 6 and rested for 3).
Somewhere in New Jersey. Yeah, that's New Jersey and those are chickens. It looks like the middle of Ohio to me.
George and his brand new Bianchi.
The Joe-mobile and the George-mobile.
At the end of the ride.
You may have it in your head that is a small shame that George and I were unable to finish the event. That is what I would be thinking.
Since Saturday, I have thought a lot about why it is that some people think like this. Why do we have this natural racing instinct? Why do we want to be the fastest or the most efficient or the best? Why do we feel so much pressure from deadlines and time constraints? Why are we so goal oriented? This mentality, if you have it, is hard to turn off. While on the ride to the brevet, George pointed out that his windbreaker was baggy and not very aerodynamic. For a moment, I considered if my jacket was aerodynamic. I quickly snapped out of it and said, "Hey, it's not a race."
In fact, it was not until George and I decided we were not going to complete the 200 km when we finally did turn our racing brains off and relaxed. We were very easily sucked into the stress of getting to the event on time and riding at a fast enough pace. However, it was not so easy for us to turn it off. It took us four hours. When we did, we finally began to enjoy ourselves. We took pictures, talked more, rested more, looked around more, and appreciated the fact that we had no idea where we were. When was the last time that the most detailed information you knew about your location was the name of the state you were in? It felt great. Why isn't this our natural state of mind? Why do I have to force myself to stop worrying so I can relax and not force myself to stop relaxing so I can worry?
I don't know! I think that it is important to have this racing mentality. I certainly do not wish that I was completely without it. However, I do think that it is equally important to be able to turn it off. Even the people who ran the Princeton 200 km event can not completely turn off their racing brains. They posted the unofficial results and noted that the guy with the track record was four minutes off his fastest time and that he was training for an Ironman triathlon. They also bragged about the fact that they had the most people ever complete the course in under 10 hours. I wonder if those riders noticed the alpaca farms and the chickens. It does not sound like a group of "rambling" cyclists to me.
I'll show them what a real randonneur is this summer.
life=good
Hey, Joe!
ReplyDeleteSounds like Nana's genes are starting to express themselves...