Tour de Victoria

 

            Last weekend I had the amazing experience of riding the Tour de Victoria. It’s a stunning course that winds through a variety of landscapes and neighborhoods and was well worth the trip over. But it also taught me a number of things that I needed to learn—or remember.

            I was nervous about this ride. It was my first fondo, and I’ve avoided mass rides like that for a reason: I never liked the idea of starting in a group. The potential for accidents seemed too high. All those wheels so close to each other. One inexperienced rider is all it would take to make us topple over like dominoes, and I could easily be that rider.

            But the Victoria Fondo is billed as a ride, not a race, and it seemed like it would be a lot smaller than the Whistler Fondo. That gave me a bit of comfort. I held my breath and signed up for the 100km distance—not what I wanted, but I’d been having lower back issues on and off for months and decided to play it safe and listen to my body.

            Luckily for me, my back issues cleared up before I left, so I thought, okay, if I’m listening to my body, my body is telling me I can do the 140km ride. That was the distance I really wanted to do. Still, I was nervous. The Victoria course is challenging—1800m of elevation, with some 15% grade climbs, and I hadn’t done a lot of climbing this year. But I decided even if I had to be the clown who walked my bike up the steep hills, I’d do it. As we checked in on Friday afternoon, I changed my distance to 140km and tried not to second-guess my decision.

            Best-case scenario? It would be the ride of a lifetime. Beautiful sights. Great climbing. I’d ride into the finish chute with gas left in the tank and it would be a great confidence-builder for Ironman.

            Worst case? Accident at the start. Accident somewhere along the way. Terrible back pain. Walking up the hills. Having to get the broom wagon to pick me up and take me back. But I pushed those doomsday visions out of my mind.

            The morning of a race is always the worst for me. My stomach doesn’t like it. No matter what I eat, it’s upset. That morning was no different. But when we got to the start line, I saw there were fewer people there than I’d expected. The 160 and 140km rides started earlier than the others, and it seemed like those longer distances weren’t very popular. That was a comfort. Then I made friends with a woman who’d done the ride before and she reassured me I would be fine. I remembered my best-case scenario and decided to believe her.

            The countdown began, the horn blew, and we were off.

            As soon as I started riding, I realized something important: I knew how to do this. It was just a ride. There was nothing scary about it. I’d done it a million times. I remembered this was exactly my experience in the Ironman as well. I was terrified until I got into the water and took those first few strokes. Within a very short time, I settled down, because I realized I had trained for that race and I knew how to do it, and all the fears I’d built up around it were nonsense.

            The Victoria course was indeed tough. There was a lot of climbing, some technical descents, and a patch of gravel that I definitely didn’t appreciate. But I did not walk my bike, I did not come in last, and I did not need the broom wagon to pick me up. There were no accidents (that I saw, anyway). People were friendly. The food at the aid stations was amazing. The ride itself was incredibly beautiful. My back was tired by the end, but I think everyone’s was. Six hours is a long time to be on a bike. Still, I got to the finish chute with lots of life in my legs, and that was extremely encouraging for what lies ahead in the coming months.

            At the finish line, I met my friend, and we devoured our burgers and fries and relived the great moments of the ride. It was a fabulous experience. I will definitely do it again next year.

            Choosing the 140km course was the right decision. At the end, I felt like I’d accomplished something. I was pleased with my nutrition and pacing and pleased with what I’d learned along the way: I can do this. It’s what I’ve trained for.

            The next morning, I went for a long recovery swim in Elk Lake and a bit of a run, and then ate all the things and slept like the dead. Yes, I fell asleep yesterday afternoon in the middle of reading a manuscript (no reflection on the manuscript—it was great, but I was exhausted), but I’m back to normal now and ready for another week of training.