2007 Mt. Diablo Challenge

I just completed the Mt. Diablo Challenge and it marks the end of my 2007 season.  That’s right.  I’m throwing in the towel.  I yelling “uncle.”  I am waving the white flag.  But what a season it has been!!  Unfortunately, I’ve just recently found the beauty of blogging so I didn’t get a chance to chronicle all of my events, but let me tell you there were many.

 I did the Mt. Diablo Challenge last year on my mountain bike and it didn’t go so well.  First of all, I was definitely in the minority standing on the starting line with big knobby tires on my bike and baggy shorts.  Everyone else was on their skinny tired road bikes and spandex shorts (for better or worse).  As you may have read in my first TR post, knobby tires are not the most efficient form of locomotion.  In addition, last year my bike chain exploded within the first mile of the race, causing me about 15 minutes of time.  And finally, I was not very strong.

 So this year, after showing the Canadian Rockies who their daddy was, I decided to attempt the coveted “under an hour” mark.  You get a T-shirt that tells everyone how studly you are, you get runway models under each arm and a brand new Mercedes.  I made up the last two, but you get the picture.  The course is 10.8 miles, with 3250 feet in elevation gain, starting with some pot-marked asphalt and ending with smooth but no so flat blacktop. 

 I did the race with my best friend, Matt, and his brother.  His brother lives close to Mt. Diablo and rides the mountain on a regular basis, but Matt has only done the route once before, only a couple of weeks prior.  Matt is now a 13-year heart and lung transplant recipient.  He isn’t 13 years old, he’s 32, but has been through a lot in his lifetime and has been working overtime to get strong and try some races.  This would be his biggest test yet. 

When we arrived in the morning it was a very chilly.  Where did autumn come from all of the sudden?  My temperature gauge said that it was 42 degrees when we started toward the start line.  My fingers were freezing and so were my legs, but I warmed up quickly.  We parked about 3 miles from the start so that we could warm up and I decided that I would do two laps, since it takes me a long time to warm up now.  While heading towards the registration we were met by a fire truck and an ambulance on the side of the road.  As we passed we saw them attending to a rider that had somehow used the road as a cheese grater on his face.  It was a flat road and we hadn’t even started yet! 

 By the time we reached the registration and I got my ankle bracelet (no it’s not for house-arrest, it keeps your time), there was not much time to get back to the truck and back to the starting line.   Yet silly me…I left my bib # in the truck thinking there would be plenty of time.  I hustled back to the truck and looked at the clock.  I needed to hurry.  I rode back quickly noticing there weren’t any other riders to be found.  Everyone else was at the starting line.  When I finally got there Matt told me that the race started.  “Did my wave go already?” I asked.  He didn’t know.  I moved along the side of the starting pack asking what wave they were in.  (They let the racers go in waves, so at to not cause bottlenecks or slow down the faster riders.)  My wave just left.  I hopped on my bike and pedaled quickly, my heart rate was already elevated and my legs were burning.  Needless to say, not the ideal way to start a race.  Very reminiscent of my race in Downieville, when I got to the starting line and realized that I had forgot to replace my rear tire skewer, meaning that on my first bump my rear tire would have flown off.  Anyway, I started my race and quickly passed the slower riders, while trying to find some sort of pace to keep myself on the hour mark.  It didn’t last long.  By mile 6 up the hill, my legs were screaming.  By mile 8, they were filing eviction notices.  The views were beautiful but my legs were throwing a temper tantrum and wanted nothing to do with it.  Meanwhile, my pulmunary system kept asking, “Are we there yet?  Are we there yet?”

The road gets progressively steeper towards the top of the mountain, and then pitches up at about a 25-30% grade for the last 200 yards.  We pass ranger stations and park benches along the way and there are friendly volunteers that cheer you up and hand out water.  What great folks…until I passed an elderly gentleman who said eagerly, “Almost there, only 2 or 3 more miles!”  I said to myself, “What the %$#@!  Make up your mind, is it 2 or 3 miles?”  At this point I was not in the mood for indecision. 

The final stretch of road started to sound like a porn video, people panting and shaking on their leather seats, trying to coax the last bit of energy from their legs.  I was not any better off, and my pace was nowhere near what I needed it to be.  Then, there it was.  The final push straight up.  This part of the route is like pouring salt on an open wound, but there are people already at the top cheering for you to finish.  I looked up the hill, got my energy back, my determination took over, I was unstoppable!  I got out of my seat to sprint up the hill, then, uh oh, cramps!  Both of my quads locked up and wouldn’t let go.  So here I was, I could see the top of the damned hill and my legs were saying “not today buddy.”  Every pedal up the hill was torture, but I focused on the top and suddenly I was there.  I can only imagine what my picture looked like coming across the finish line.  I must have looked like I was storming the beaches of Normandy, disoriented and scared.  I quickly hopped off of my bike got some water, started stretching and eventually the knots went away.  The weather at the top was beautiful, especially compared to last year; which featured clouds and mist.  You could make out the faint outline of the Sierras and some snow capped peaks. 

 I finally caught up to Matt’s brother and we went to look at our times and get our free smoothie.  Matt would be a while longer.  Everyone was huddled around the print outs desperate to see their times and there I was:  1:13:56.  No partying gifts, no ladies, no Benz.  Oh well.  I did catch a free water bottle, with a coupon for a free oil change and lube.  Oh, sweet victory!  Meanwhile, we waited for more flying water bottles and maybe a free map.  OOOH!  Finally we decided to go watch for Matt since he should be getting close and help cheer him up the ‘hill of death.’  When suddenly, someone was calling my name.  It was Matt, he had already made it to the top!  When we got to him it was very emotional and inspiring.  Matt is an incredible person.  He smashed his anticipated time of 2 hours with a 1:52. 

Overall, what a beautiful day to mark the end of my season.  I didn’t break the hour mark, but I was able to be there for Matt and see yet another incredible accomplishment from him. 

Here is another inspirational moment.  I get chills every time I watch it.