A Saturday morning ride

I was as nervous coming to my first training ride in Colorado Springs as I’ll be meeting my first UCCS class on Monday.  Was I fit enough, would the altitude be too much for me, and, most critically, would I fit in?  In the end, I share the same anxieties about finding friends, fitting in with the group and being accepted as my ten year old. 

The old stoic, Epictetus, comes to my aid.  “Make the best use of what is in your power, and take the rest as it happens.” 

That, and a couple shots of espresso, and I’m good to go.

We meet at the Starbucks on Tejon, in downtown Colorado Springs.  I decide that the goal of the ride is to not get dropped, and if that is not a worry, to stay near the front.  A group of about 35 riders pedals off at 10:15 and I also make a note to find a good wheel.  Two guys I talk to before the ride starts are likely candidates.  Steve is a retired Air Force vet now doing Christian ministry and doesn’t have more than a few grams of fat on him.  Wiry with chiseled features and a good smile (I make a special note to avoid religion at all costs).  The other fellow is also new to ride but is the new Air Force team’s coach and is a Cat 1 rider from New Mexico.  His wheel does turn out to be the one to follow.

Now, hours later, other riders also come to mind.  A surly guy, built like myself, a nice woman, rail thin, a rider dressed in dark blue US Postal kit and a camelback strapped on (mental note to avoid).  We sort ourselves into a peloton and navigate the city streets of the Springs, heading east.  The pace is easy for the first 8 miles or so, until we turn south and suddenly I’m sprinting out of the turn to close a gap. 

The group strings out into a long paceline and I move up through the pack to take one of the front wheels.  I don’t know where we’re going, so I can’t be on the front, but I can be upfront and avoid the riders falling off the back.  We’re cruising along at a constant 29 mph with surges into the low 30’s, but I’m pleased that I’m breathing well and not under too much stress.  We’re in the flats and I feel like I’ve got power to spare yet.  The first spring comes about twenty miles in.  It’s up a hill and I get the first hint that I’m not 100 percent when I’m winded half way up.  I gapped the field, can’t hold it and fade right through to the back chasing on with the other slow guys.

We head south to another sprint and then back track north to Ft. Carson, cross it (bring your ID) and head north back towards the Springs.  The group splits and I opt to take the flatter route to town and finish with about 55 miles in.  Good miles and the body feels stressed.  One of the guys slaps me on the back and says I rode well today.  ‘How long have you been in Colorado?’

‘One day.’

‘Shit, you’re going to kick our asses in two months.’  Probably not, but I would like to do better in those sprints…