Le Tour de Menlo: Le Results

Of the many, many hills that tortured me during the Tour de Menlo (see my previous blog), two of them had the option of being timed (the aforementioned hill that was so steep that I was poppin' wheelies and the final hill, Melendy). If you wanted, you could give a race official a card at the bottom of the hill, have it time stamped, and then scurry off as fast as you could up the ascent and give your card to an official at the top of the hill. Just for the heck of it, I did that. I did not realize, however, that I was setting myself up for embarrassment, as the times have now been posted on the race's web site.

Of the 50 riders who submitted times for both hills, I came in 50th with a combined hill climb time of 66 minutes (26 on the first hill, 40 on the second), "right behind" Eric Vicenti, a 14 year old, who had a combined time of 50 minutes. The best time? 27 year old Jesse Bastide who got up both hills in a total of just 16 minutes. My buddy JLO finished with a very impressive total of 30 minutes.

According to the results page, each hill was about 1.4 miles long. Traveling 2.8 miles in 66 minutes means I averaged about 2.5 MPH. That's 83 times faster than a snail, but about 4.4 times slower than a domestic pig, so it's a mixed bag.

So what was I doing in all that extra time? Well, standing on the side of the road, slumped over my bike, and cursing the course designer, mostly. I would get to a point where my legs would just burn, quickly followed by a complete lack of feeling in my legs, quickly followed by an inability to make them move anymore, and then I would dismount, feel like I was going to pass out, let the blood return to my head, take a swig of water, sheepishly look down the hill to see if other riders were going to see me resting, and then get back on again, deciding that if I could just make it to that next fire hydrant up there, I'd reward myself with another rest. And so I'd hop back on, grimace at the pain in my crotch as I planted myself once again on that damned seat, and pedal for all I was worth until the oasis that was that fire hydrant, and then the process would start itself all over again.

To my credit, there were about 170 riders in the race, which means 120 didn't even bother to have their climbs timed. I also know a bunch of riders did the 30 mile course and not the 50, and I am consoled by reminding myself that I didn't walk a single step of those hills. But still - I don't like seeing my name on the bottom of a list of results for anything.