1. I will not use my middle ring on St. Kevins. Every year I’m feeling all psyched for the first big climb of the race. The combination of excitement, anxiety, impatience and adrenaline always send me rocketing up in my middle ring on St. Kevins, blasting past dozens of riders — and setting myself up to pay the price 40 miles later, when I really need the juice. This year, I will use a low gear and high cadence, even though I know I won’t want to.

2. I will not keep my eyes only 10 feet ahead of me coming down Sugarloaf. I’m always so busy looking at the erosion ruts right in front of me on this sandy, technical downhill that I don’t pick out the good line. I’m constantly reacting and gettsqueezed off to one side of the road or other, then having to dismount and hop over a big rut. This year, I’ll take the long view, look ahead, and ride it nice and easy.

3. I will not solo the Fish Hatchery to Twin Lakes Dam section, in either direction. This is the only relatively flat section (15 miles or so) of the race, and you ride it twice. It’s the perfect time to work together with a group, but I never do. With hundreds of riders on the course, there’s got to be someone going my speed. If not, I will slow down for a few seconds and pick someone up, or briefly pick up my pace and join a train. It’s silly that I never work with anyone on this race.

4. I will not avoid looking at my watch during the Columbine section. Every year, I watch the clock obsessively until I’m about halfway up the nastiest climb of all. I’m always afraid to look at my watch as I climb Columbine, figuring I’m much slower than I had hoped to be and not wanting to be further demoralized. Then, by the time I get to the top of the climb — the turnaround point of the race — I’ve got one big disappointment in store for me. This year, I’ll keep tabs on my time and make adjustments to my effort as necessary. I’ll probably still miss my time goals, but I’ll at least know when it happened.

5. I will never say to myself, "I have no business doing this kind of race." This is the wrong time to analyze what I should and shouldn’t be doing. This is the time for me to ride my brains out. Oh, who am I kidding. Of course I’ll say "I have no business doing this kind of race," among other things. If I’m not suffering, what’s even the point of being there?

6. I will not let the Powerline climb break me. 77 (or so) miles into the race, there’s a nasty stretch of steep climbing called the Powerline. It’s sandy and rutted, and more than once I’ve mentally admitted defeat and backed my effort way off. This time, I’ll hike where I have to, but I won’t whine. I’ll keep moving, and I’ll get on my bike whenever it’s possible.

7. I will not leave the finish line area until after 7pm. The most exciting, dramatic, heroic finishes come at around the 12 and 13 hour marks. I will stick around and cheer for everyone, even thoughpart (most? all?) of me wants to go lay down. OK, maybe I’ll go change clothes quickly, but then I’m coming right back.

Bonus Excitement #1. I have managed to borrow a top-of-the line Sugar for the race. Thanks, Wyatt!

 

Bonus Excitement #2. Cyclingnews.com likes my story idea from yesterday; I’ll be shopping for a digital recorder tomorrow evening.

 

Today’s Weight: 164.8