Red Clay Ramble 2017

The Georgia Neuro cycling team had a good turnout for this year’s Red Clay Ramble:

(L-R): Van, me, Robert, Cody, and Cal

Cal, Robert, and Van raced in the masters men category (40-49 years old).  Cody raced Clydesdale.  The guys also had grand masters (50-59) and ultra masters (60+).  I raced masters women (40+).  We women got just one masters category.  I’m grateful women were offered masters at all.  That’s relatively rare in women’s racing around here.

Having raced the Red Clay Ramble twice before, I knew what to expect.  Sure enough, the fastest men took off like rockets.  I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep up with them, even if I drafted.  Therefore, I settled into the fastest pace I thought I could maintain for the approximately three hours it would take me to complete the race.

During the first half of the race, I got to ride with several other people.  One couple in matching kits would catch up to me and then drop back.  The third time they caught me, I said to them, “You’re back!  You’re like McRib.”  You know those McDonald’s ads that have been popping up for years?  McRib – it’s back!  Ironically, the couple’s kits even kind of looked like McRibs.

Drawing on my extensive time trialing and endurance riding experience, I kept as steady a pace as I could, minimizing surges that would unnecessarily use up energy.  Eventually, Mr. McRib, several other guys, and I pulled ahead, leaving behind a few others that included Ms. McRib and another woman.  The two women looked younger than me, and so I figured they were in the open class and, therefore, not competing against me.  Still, I was glad to stay ahead of them.  After a few more miles, my subgroup dropped me.  I had to ride most of the second half of the race by myself.  I didn’t mind, but that took away the energy conserving advantages of riding in a group.  I estimated that my finish time wouldn’t be as good as in previous years.

My friend Jean was also racing in the masters women category.  I knew that she would be my biggest competition.  At the beginning of the race, I saw her take off with the fast guys.  I never saw her again during the race.  Therefore, I focused on my secondary goal, breaking three hours.  Unfortunately, that goal slipped away, too, as I had to do so much of the race solo.

After I had been riding by myself for a number of miles, a guy caught up to me just as we were turning off of Otis Redding Road onto Old Hwy 11.  We rode together for a while.  His kit inspired me.  It read, “I am a racer.”  That reminded me to keep my head in the race and keep going as hard as I could.  Eventually, he started pulling ahead, and I told him to go on.  Back to solo riding.

I didn’t stop at any of the rest stops.  I figured that after the good breakfast I had eaten, I just needed one Clif Bar about halfway through the ride.  I had taken it out of the wrapper and put it in my jersey pocket for easy access.  As for liquids, I drank a good bit before the race and carried two large bottles on my bike, dosing them to myself throughout the race.  At the last rest stop at about mile 50, I was just running out of water.  As I rode by, I grabbed a cup of water from a volunteer.  About half went flying out, but that half cup of water really helped in the final six miles.

The guy in the “I am a racer” kit had stopped at that last rest stop.  I felt a tiny bit of satisfaction in passing him.  But then, he came zooming up to me a couple of miles later.  We started kind of riding together again.  Then, we caught a guy who was on a road bike(!).  I was able to chat with that guy for a few moments as we rode side by side.  His name was Elliott, and he said he had underestimated the amount of gravel on the course.  I gave him kudos for doing as well as he was under the circumstances.

Elliott, “I am a racer,” and I rode together for a bit.  Eventually, Elliott dropped back.  Then, I pulled ahead of “I am a racer” again.

Figuring that I was in second place for masters women, I pedaled as fast as I could toward the end.  Less than 50 m from the finish line, here came “I am a racer”!  He outsprinted me at the end.  Not that it really mattered since we weren’t competing against each other, but I suppose his testosterone/ego just wouldn’t let me finish ahead of him.  Whatever.

My time of 3 hours and 12 minutes was good enough to put me in second place for the masters women’s podium.  I knew that I had raced my best; I couldn’t ask for more.  The Red Clay Ramble is billed as 56 miles of hot and dirty fun.  That is an accurate description.