KOM Stage 3: The Heartbreak Hundred

Yesterday, I completed the Planet Ultra King of the Mountains Century Challenge and today I took a 40 mile victory lap with Reuben, Sarah, and Johanna. There is a great sense of accomplishment that comes with completing something so difficult, and an equally humbling feeling that comes with finishing 103/111 in the 49 and under category (though I do have the honor of being the youngest finisher this year). But enough about the series. Here's The Heartbreak Hundred breakdown:

Almost all the way to the first rest-stop is spent climbing at what looks like a very minimal grade, but turns out to be a beast greater than the sum of its parts. First, asking me to climb right out the gate is like asking a teenager to take the reigns of a multinational company. It takes me twenty miles just to get warmed up. It didn't help that my riding partner Reuben (all 125lbs of him) climbs like a Nepalese sherpa. I mean that in a very real sense, because this event starts at over 5,000ft of elevation, peaking above 8,000 near the first rest-stop just under 25mi in. We started near the back of the pack and steadily passed riders all the way to the top. By the time we'd reached the rest-stop, I was done for the day. In moving and starting a new job all in the last week, I hadn't done my research properly and I paid the price.

From there, we had a beautiful decent into a valley, a spot that would have made for great pacelining had I left anything in the tank for such efforts. Instead, we spent the next several hours laboring along with Reuben stuck at the front in the role of wind-shield until we reached somewhat of a desert badlands. Every scattered tree we passed seemed to have a person we'd seen all day sitting under it, looking for a bit of respite. The cramping set in right as we reached what we were told would be the most painful part of the day.

It's my belief that the Heartbreak Hill is only painful because of what had come before it. Had I not totally exhuasted myself in the first two hours and begun to cramp, it would have been a pleasurably short climb. Note to self: take it easy out of the gate next time! When I reached the top, around the bend I found the familiar faces of Johanna and Sarah (our girlfriends and KOM support-group) and Reuben (who had dusted me up the hill). It was at this point we started noticing the double-century riders in our midst, and I felt very weak.

The final stretch began with utter exhaustion, but as we got within a few miles of the finish, I crossed over into the undead and began pulling at the front for Reuben again. We traded turns at the front, each turn becoming stronger, more desperate than the last. We worked ourselves into a frenzy. We yelled and grunted, pedals whirring, tires and chains making their familiar sounds. And that was all there was in the world. We left no reserve unspent, and as we crossed the finish line there was a moment of utter joy. This moment was closely followed by ten minutes of stumbling around, mostly incoherent, as my body fought its urge to collapse.

These endurance events take the human body to a place it rarely goes; to a place where mind-body roles are reversed. The mind gives the body legs to continue, even as the body's legs reach the point of betraying the mind. These event aren't about how far a person can push the body, but rather how far the body can push the mind.