On June 10, 1997 Michael Jordan, suffering from the flu, scored 38 points had seven rebounds, five assists, three steals and one block to win game five against the Utah Jazz in the NBA finals.
It is always a bummer when you get sick, and Julie knows what a baby I am when I am not feeling well. Despite putting in a ton of base mileage and preparation for Saturday’s road race, I woke up the Monday before feeling like I got hit with a MACK truck. Sore throat, fever, and typical stupidness. It was all I could do to weather the week with tons of rest, green tea, and water. Athletes typically bounce back pretty quickly, but a cold is a cold, and it is a challenge to go anaerobic for 2 hours when you are sneezing out green gook.
My preparation for the week leading up to Boulevard included 6 days of rest, 45 minutes of light spinning on a trainer, and regular doses of Nyquil. The course is notoriously difficult even for the Cat4’s with over 4,000 feet of climbing in 42 miles. I pretty much knew how the day would go, but I was hoping that I could rally myself to be a Michael Jordan and overcome the odds.
We left the house at 5AM so Julie would be there in time for the ladies race which went off at 7AM. It was a beautiful day which was a nice change from last year’s 40-degree rainstorm at the same race. I saw the ladies off and headed up to hang out for a little bit and get warmed up for my race at 9:30.
I spent about 25 minutes or so on the trainer and I noticed right away that my body was not responding the way I wanted it to. I could barely get any oxygen, my heart rate was through the roof, and I was hacking up nasty stuff. Determined to beat the odds, I pushed on through.
I got off the trainer, and said a quick prayer for safety and strength before heading to the start line. There were 100 other riders in my race, so getting an OK starting position was important. The start was already pretty full but I managed to squeeze in about 1/3 of the way back and on the right. A few teammates were close by and I chatted it up with a couple of other guys I knew in the group.
The first part of the race was uneventful. A 10 mile decent into the valley full of brake-happy cat 4s got a little sketchy at times, but we all made it to the first turn without incident. We took a hard right-hand turn onto the climbing rollers of La Posta Road where I knew the pack would separate out a little bit.
Sure enough, more and more people fell off the group. I weaved my way around folks to stay on with the lead pack and was right there in the mix. My head was aching, and I vomited a little, but I was there. A small hill that would typically just be a moment in the red, was more like doing a treadmill stress test at max speed for me. My heart rate was up to 196 and I was feeling miserable.
I made the second right and turn onto the four mile climb still in with the lead group. I had slowed down my breathing as much as possible but it didn’t help much. The pack began to pull away. I looked at my computer and I was moving up the 5%-6% grade at 12.5-13MPH which on a good day is super fast. The group must have been redlining at 15-16mph which was just crazy.
I almost just quit after lap one, but looking over my shoulder I saw a small pack of riders approaching. I figured if I could just catch on to them I could try and recover on the decent before doing the climb again. The group passed and I sprinted on to them.
Two of my teammates were in the group so I was happy to have a little relief as far as my legs were concerned. I still took a couple of pulls, but all in all my team mate Brian did the majority of the work. Making the turn onto La Posta once again, I worked in the group until it broke apart and there were only a few of us left. My head felt like I was on a different planet altogether, and I literally pictured spinning on my trainer to make sure I was using full pedal strokes. Gradually I stayed with it, but all my energy started to fade. My legs felt OK, but my body was too fatigued to work anymore. I gave it all I had to muster and sprinted hard for the finish to take 59th. It was the absolute worst performance of my life knowing what I am capable of on a good day, but I was just happy that I somehow found the energy to finish. I was no Michael Jordan.
On February 5th, 2011, Tim Barr, suffering from a head cold, got dropped like a bad habit at the Boulevard Bike Race.
--------------------------------
It is amazing how the human body recovers in adversity. I woke up a little tired on Sunday, but feeling quite a bit better than Saturday. After the hell I felt at Boulevard, I was on the fence about racing Red Trolley, but I figured that I may as well give it a go. The 0.5 mile course with a little kicker hill thrown in can be a beast if you are not feeling strong, but if worse came to worse, I could always just drop out early.
The 45 minute race was set to go at 1:15PM, and I had completed a good 40 minute warm up. The legs felt surprisingly good, it was still just a little congestion I was dealing with, but it was not too bad. I lined up towards the back and on the outside right so I could pass people on the outside.
The pack rolled out, and I was able to move up quickly. Wheels were squirrely everywhere so staying on the outside I was able to pedal smooth and stay in the mix. It was all I could do to stay in the mix. I rode with my teammates as much as I could, but the one time I went to the front to take a pull I realized my body was not quite there. It was OK though. Serious comeback since the previous day at Boulevard.
The Cat 4’s at this race were some of the worst to race with. Serious inconsistencies in speed and never strung out enough to make it safe. I spent as much time staying out of trouble as I spent trying to move up. It was just never smooth. Although I didn’t contribute as much as I would have liked, I did feel good that my legs were back and that I stayed in the mix the entire time. It’s too bad that my head cold hadn’t hit two days earlier than it did! Things may have been different…..
Next up…Imperial Classic…
It is always a bummer when you get sick, and Julie knows what a baby I am when I am not feeling well. Despite putting in a ton of base mileage and preparation for Saturday’s road race, I woke up the Monday before feeling like I got hit with a MACK truck. Sore throat, fever, and typical stupidness. It was all I could do to weather the week with tons of rest, green tea, and water. Athletes typically bounce back pretty quickly, but a cold is a cold, and it is a challenge to go anaerobic for 2 hours when you are sneezing out green gook.
My preparation for the week leading up to Boulevard included 6 days of rest, 45 minutes of light spinning on a trainer, and regular doses of Nyquil. The course is notoriously difficult even for the Cat4’s with over 4,000 feet of climbing in 42 miles. I pretty much knew how the day would go, but I was hoping that I could rally myself to be a Michael Jordan and overcome the odds.
We left the house at 5AM so Julie would be there in time for the ladies race which went off at 7AM. It was a beautiful day which was a nice change from last year’s 40-degree rainstorm at the same race. I saw the ladies off and headed up to hang out for a little bit and get warmed up for my race at 9:30.
I spent about 25 minutes or so on the trainer and I noticed right away that my body was not responding the way I wanted it to. I could barely get any oxygen, my heart rate was through the roof, and I was hacking up nasty stuff. Determined to beat the odds, I pushed on through.
I got off the trainer, and said a quick prayer for safety and strength before heading to the start line. There were 100 other riders in my race, so getting an OK starting position was important. The start was already pretty full but I managed to squeeze in about 1/3 of the way back and on the right. A few teammates were close by and I chatted it up with a couple of other guys I knew in the group.
The first part of the race was uneventful. A 10 mile decent into the valley full of brake-happy cat 4s got a little sketchy at times, but we all made it to the first turn without incident. We took a hard right-hand turn onto the climbing rollers of La Posta Road where I knew the pack would separate out a little bit.
Sure enough, more and more people fell off the group. I weaved my way around folks to stay on with the lead pack and was right there in the mix. My head was aching, and I vomited a little, but I was there. A small hill that would typically just be a moment in the red, was more like doing a treadmill stress test at max speed for me. My heart rate was up to 196 and I was feeling miserable.
I made the second right and turn onto the four mile climb still in with the lead group. I had slowed down my breathing as much as possible but it didn’t help much. The pack began to pull away. I looked at my computer and I was moving up the 5%-6% grade at 12.5-13MPH which on a good day is super fast. The group must have been redlining at 15-16mph which was just crazy.
I almost just quit after lap one, but looking over my shoulder I saw a small pack of riders approaching. I figured if I could just catch on to them I could try and recover on the decent before doing the climb again. The group passed and I sprinted on to them.
Two of my teammates were in the group so I was happy to have a little relief as far as my legs were concerned. I still took a couple of pulls, but all in all my team mate Brian did the majority of the work. Making the turn onto La Posta once again, I worked in the group until it broke apart and there were only a few of us left. My head felt like I was on a different planet altogether, and I literally pictured spinning on my trainer to make sure I was using full pedal strokes. Gradually I stayed with it, but all my energy started to fade. My legs felt OK, but my body was too fatigued to work anymore. I gave it all I had to muster and sprinted hard for the finish to take 59th. It was the absolute worst performance of my life knowing what I am capable of on a good day, but I was just happy that I somehow found the energy to finish. I was no Michael Jordan.
On February 5th, 2011, Tim Barr, suffering from a head cold, got dropped like a bad habit at the Boulevard Bike Race.
--------------------------------
It is amazing how the human body recovers in adversity. I woke up a little tired on Sunday, but feeling quite a bit better than Saturday. After the hell I felt at Boulevard, I was on the fence about racing Red Trolley, but I figured that I may as well give it a go. The 0.5 mile course with a little kicker hill thrown in can be a beast if you are not feeling strong, but if worse came to worse, I could always just drop out early.
The 45 minute race was set to go at 1:15PM, and I had completed a good 40 minute warm up. The legs felt surprisingly good, it was still just a little congestion I was dealing with, but it was not too bad. I lined up towards the back and on the outside right so I could pass people on the outside.
The pack rolled out, and I was able to move up quickly. Wheels were squirrely everywhere so staying on the outside I was able to pedal smooth and stay in the mix. It was all I could do to stay in the mix. I rode with my teammates as much as I could, but the one time I went to the front to take a pull I realized my body was not quite there. It was OK though. Serious comeback since the previous day at Boulevard.
The Cat 4’s at this race were some of the worst to race with. Serious inconsistencies in speed and never strung out enough to make it safe. I spent as much time staying out of trouble as I spent trying to move up. It was just never smooth. Although I didn’t contribute as much as I would have liked, I did feel good that my legs were back and that I stayed in the mix the entire time. It’s too bad that my head cold hadn’t hit two days earlier than it did! Things may have been different…..
Next up…Imperial Classic…
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