Most road bike riders like to test their capabilities. They
like to ride as fast as possible most of the time. I’m in that group. I think
it’s fun to test myself physically on the bike.
But sometimes, competitive fires among riders can raise
hackles, stir animosity. It shouldn’t, but hey, it can flare up occasionally in
the heat of battle for the upper hand. As in, OK, who is the faster rider, me
or you?
This past week my first 51-mile ride started out fast on my
first long split, a 14.5 miler, but my last three splits were slow, slow, slow.
After several days off, my legs were pretty tired in the latter part of the
ride.
On my second ride the next day I also had a fast first
split, then decided to concentrate on improving my speed over the day before, on
the final three splits. I knocked about three minutes off the first half of the
ride – 25.1 miles – and maintained that as I started the final 14.5 mile split.
At that point I figured to just keep as strong a cadence as possible and I’d
beat the previous ride’s total time. It took some concentration because I felt
the cumulative effect of having already ridden 35 or so miles at an up-tempo
pace.
At the end of the final 14.5-mile split is a straightaway
that I always treat as a chance to get to the top gear, stand up on the pedals
and finish at as high a speed as I can manage. It’s the ride’s final burst of
high-octane energy, the classic sprint finish.
As I rounded a right turning curve before the approach to
the final straightaway, a guy passed me on my left, very close, nearly cutting
me off as he turned in front of me.
So there I was, just about to gear up to do my routine
sprint and this guy passed me, pretty rudely, I thought. But maybe I was
wrongly offended. I had a pretty fast pace going, and this guy blew by me with
what looked like dismissive body language. Whether that perception was accurate
or not, it jolted me with a mainline shot of adrenaline. I jumped on it, geared
up fast and hammered with all I had. This guy spurred me in the side toward an
extra fast finish. I really wanted to
pass him back before the final sprint.
It wasn’t long before I did just that, and as I passed the
guy on the left as the path veered left, I could hear angry yelling from him,
but I couldn’t make out what he said. I was too busy churning out my high gear
momentum to the finish.
I decided not to stand up, since I could feel my quads on
the brink of cramping. I knew if I stood up, they could lock up and in the past
that has caused me to fall off the freakin’ bike! So I stayed seated and pedaled
as hard as I could through the final 100 or so yards of straightaway, topping
out at 25 mph. Usually, I only hit 20-22 mph, so I was a little amped.
I crossed the split line and turned off the path to the
bridge leading home. The guy I passed caught up to me on the bridge where I
rode slowly to recover. He muttered an angry expletive (the four-letter word
for solid waste) as he passed by. I watched him ride ahead, shaking his head side
to side as if he couldn’t believe what I had done to him.
I was completely surprised by his anger, and didn’t have a
response. Was I supposed to stay behind him? Was he mad because I passed him
back? If so, why? I just kept riding and watched him turn off the bridge while
I rode straight ahead on my way home.
I really couldn’t understand the guy’s reaction. Whenever
I’ve passed somebody and they re-pass me and I can’t stay with them, I don’t
have any anger toward them. I just tip my hat to the fact that they’re faster
that day. Good for them.
The next day a theory dawned on me why the guy was mad. He
probably felt I passed him too closely. Maybe I surprised him, maybe his
reaction made him nearly go off the trail into the dirt, maybe he had to slow
down to recover. He was angry because he felt he’d been disrespected.
If so, it definitely wasn’t intentional. I never sought to
brush him off the path by passing close to him. I just worked hard to pass him
and build my sprint down the straightaway. His pass of me no doubt got my
attention. It made me want to pass him back. So I did my best to do so.
All this raw emotion erupted from some serious competitive
fires lit by two guys passing each other and each taking it a little too
personally, each feeling rudely blown off by the other.
But I figure, hey, when we’re out riding, trying to pass and
keep ahead of another pretty fast rider happens on occasion. And, we win some,
and we lose some. When we win it’s a fun little victory, and when we lose, so
what? A big part of riding a road bike or mountain bike is testing ourselves.
How fast can we go? Are our bike handling skills good enough to ride our
mountain bike through some super technical trail without getting thrown off the
bike? We like to find out by testing ourselves because it’s fun.
But it’s important to take the high road, and tip our hat to
whoever beats us in these little speed or bike handling rivalries. Getting
angrily offended over losing these little competitions, well, feels too much
like whining. And whining because of losing? Really? Hey, losing is our friend. It humbles us. Losing makes us
better next time.
Anyway, whoever you were the other day, thank you. Thanks
for motivating me to finish out a pretty crisp final split. It helped me knock
seven minutes off my total time from my ride the day before. It was a tough
ride, but the overall speed improvement felt great. And hey, you helped me get there. Just hope
you knock off cursing riders that offend you because they beat you. It’s just a
waste of time, bro. Instead, let it motivate you to ride better next time. ‘Nuf
said.
Til next time, remember to pull on a helmet every time you
get on the bike. Then, keep the rubber side down, ride safely, and most
importantly, have a blast.
-- Mark Eric Larson
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