Rouge Roubaix: AKA... The Hell of the South

This is my first attempt at "Blogging" so please forgive any shortcomings in this virgin piece. Before I launch off into the detailed description of the pain and agony that defined the 2012 Rouge Roubaix, let me first explain why I race bikes.

Many of my friends wonder why cycling occupies such a significant part of my life. I guess the answer is not so simple but after many years of riding and racing I think I have figured out that I just love the lifestyle. I love living a healthy life and being outdoors. I love the feeling of being fit and my mental health is closely tied to my physical health. Secondarily, I enjoy the competition as well as the camaraderie in the peloton. What has been the "cherry on top" the last couple of years is riding and racing with my son, Evan. Getting to hang out with my 15 year old and watching him interact with other adults in a manner that makes me almost flush with pride is a feeling I really cannot put into words. My wife, Dustin, has helped shape and mold our baby boy into a young man and we both feel fortunate to have Evan as a son. We also have two other younger children that have passions of their own. Hannah (12) is a horse women extraordinaire and Dustin supports her in that passion 100%. John Collier (10) inherited my love of the outdoors and rarely ventures from our house without his pellet gun or his "survival kit" that he bought because Bear Grylls has one. So, to summarize, I love the cycling lifestyle more than anything and if good race results come along with that lifestyle then that is just gravy on top!

I have raced Rouge Roubaix now six or seven times and have always told anyone that would listen that it is my favorite race of the year in spite of the fact that the early March race date is usually to early in my Spring campaign to get a good result. I was determined this year would be different and went into the 2012 year with the confidence that comes with hard work and training. I started the process in October with a workout program different than anything I had ever done before. It focused on core strength and lower body utilizing newer training techniques and plyometrics that I was not familiar with, but that paid dividends. I then started riding in December and started training in earnest in January.

The morning of the race was 65 degrees or so with a southeast wind that would build to 20 MPH throughout the race. Shortly after the neutral start Peter Beland and I blasted off the front of the 70 man Masters field. We were soon joined by Donnie Davis and were working smoothly at mile 15 when I got a rear flat. I was able to get a wheel change within about two minutes but the field was at least a minute up the road before I began my chase. I got lucky as there were a few follow vehicles I could see up the road so I got in TT mode and rode up to the first car and paced my way up through the cars to get back on before the first dirt section which started at mile 25. We hit the dirt with 70 guys and 8 miles later came out on the black top with only 10 guys left! Attrition in this race is ugly and many times the race will play itself out without any real attacks as attrition slowly shapes and molds the final results through the sheer difficulty of the course. The group of 10 stayed together for the next 30 miles until the next dirt section at mile 65 where a one mile long dirt climb usually separates the wheat from the chaff. I, unfortunately, began to experience cramps before we even hit the climb which was extremely frustrating given how good I felt otherwise. I have since learned that my electrolyte balance needs to be supplemented with magnesium and potassium or I will experience these premature cramping sensations. Anyway, back to the race. I fought my way up the climb trying to deal with the cramps in both groin muscles and right calf muscle. I was not the least bit fatigued and got to the top third wheel in spite of the cramps. Seven of us remained after the climb but I had a big problem. The rear wheel I had gotten at mile 15 had come loose and the skewer was open and the wheel was rubbing on each brake pad whenever I tried to put any power to the pedals. Finally I hit a bump and the chain got lodged between the drop out and the rear cassette so I had no choice but to stop and fix it. By the time I got the chain dislodge and the skewer tightened properly the group was long gone. I got back on the bike and started Time Trial number two from mile 70 to mile 78 where I reached the leaders again to my own amazement. My cramps had subsided and I immediately attacked the group into a fierce headwind. My goal was to reach the third dirt section with a lead on this group to try and get over the top of the steepest climb at mile 83. I hit the climb with about 45 seconds on the group behind and was able to ride the whole thing which I found out later very few were able to do this year. A few miles later I was told I had two minutes on only one chaser! I thought "I might win this thing"? No sooner had that thought gone through my mind than I was wracked with cramps in both legs again. This time, however, they were much worse, and not anything I was just going to pedal through and have them go away. I backed way off the power and was caught at mile 90 by the lone chaser, Donnie Davis. Shortly thereafter I was caught by four other riders and was able to latch on the back of that group. The only way I was able to stay on was to be out of the saddle most of the time with a low cadence. Any slight change to that protocol triggered immediate and debilitating cramps. The next ten miles were hell but I hung on for a tough 4th Place finish in the 40+ Masters Race. Donnie Davis was the deserved winner as he was the strong man on the day. I obviously paid too high of a price with my flat then subsequent mechanical issue, but that is what makes the race unique. After the race I learned Evan had flatted in his race and could not chase back on, JD had flatted in our race and could not get back on, and Kris French flatted twice in the 1,2 race and could not get back on. That is Rouge Roubaix but we definitely had more than our share of bad luck. We then climbed back in the RV for the road trip home and were lucky to have Wes Wolfenburger at the helm to deliver us all home safely through some atrocious weather. Rouge Roubaix is arguably the hardest one day race in the country each year and I can't wait for the 2013 edition! Thanks for reading.