Why am I letting you into the inner sanctum of bicycling, you ask? Because this year I finally put my money where my mouth is and raced my bicycle, and in doing so, left the “cyclist” moniker behind to seize the title of “Bike Racer”. Up until this point I had ridden centuries, which are 100-mile charity rides. While these are challenging in their own right (see below for an extreme example), they bear no resemblance to a bike race other than we get to wear numbers on our jerseys.

My first dip into racing was the Georgia Gran Prix, a 5-day, 6-race series in North Georgia. It was a daunting undertaking for me, but I had the time of my life. As a beginner, I race in the lowest category (Cat-5), but this series had no specific Cat-5 race, so I was thrown in the bunch with the slightly more experienced Cat-4 racers. After a humbling first day due to a mechanical problem with my chain, I recovered with some results I was very proud of. Most of all, I learned boatloads of tactics and skills for future races. Shannon and the kids didn’t make the trip, but my Mom and Mike were super-supportive, making it to cheer me on at many of the races – even surprising me at the Covington criterium race.

After the Georgia races, the bug had officially bit me. I came home eager to race again. Unfortunately, work and such did not allow for the required training to make it to a few other races I had hoped to do. However, nothing would stand in the way of me racing in our hometown race, the Pensacola Cycling Classic. This is the race I watched with Gavin the very first week we moved here last year. It was that race (along with the encouragement of an excellent bike club here) that inspired me to take the leap into racing.

There was an incredibly strong (and large) “beginner” (and I use that term loosely here) field at the Pensacola race this year. While I had hoped to end up on the podium in my category, I was very happy with a 6th place finish overall. One of our teammates took first, so that’s always a plus too. A local race is always a cool thing to do, especially when your family can come out and see you race. An added bonus was that there was a kids fun-race that Faye participated in. While we might have to develop Faye’s sprinting skills, it was very cool to ride a lap with her on the race course in downtown Pensacola.

The week following the Pensacola race I joined some of my co-workers and fellow club members in a century in Georgia. Now I just spent all this time telling you how much better racing is to century rides, but there is (at least) one major exception. The 6-Gap Century in Dahlonega, Georgia is an entire different monster from anything I had ridden in the past. The course, which travels through some of the routes of the former Tour de Georgia, includes over 11,000 feet of climbing spread over (you guessed it) six peaks. There is really no good way to train for something like this in flat-as-a-board western Florida, but I did what I could, mostly resting on my racing fitness and a more mountain-friendly gear ratio on my bike.

Most centuries I’ve ridden are more of a “fun” event, where people stop at lots of rest stops, eat good food along the way, and don’t push it too hard. This one was more like what most people think of when they envision a marathon. While someone does win a marathon, most enter for the physical challenge and aren’t necessarily “racing”. Our few very short breaks on the course were to fill water bottles, grab some form of solid fuel and keep going. While there is no “winner” of 6-Gap, everyone tries to aim for a finish time. Mine was under 7 hours (which I missed by only 54 seconds). For those that haven’t figured it out, I love to ride my bike. I love to talk about bikes, I love to watch bike races, I even love to just look at bikes in a store. In short, I love everything about bikes (except those weird bearded recumbent riders). After saying all that, nearing the top of the biggest climb of the day, I never wanted to get off my bike more in my life. I thought I had known suffering on a bike, but these mountains brought it to an entirely new level. Most long rides like this are climactic at the end, and there is a rush and huge feeling of accomplishment upon crossing the finish line. Not so with 6-Gap. All of that great stuff comes at the top of the climbs (the two big ones in particular), and the end is just… the end. It helped that my loving family was waiting for me at the top of the second one for high-fives and some much needed motivation.

There was one big benefit to the brutal climbing, aside from the sheer feeling of accomplishment. The descents. Maybe it’s my profession, but I love speed. I topped out at 56.8MPH on some of the descents at 6-Gap. There is something very cool about going that fast on a human powered vehicle (especially when you get to pass cars). For those data-geeks (i.e. other cyclists) out there, you can find my Garmin data here.

So maybe I’ll still straddle the line between bike racer and cyclist. As long as I get to keep pedaling and doing what I love, I’m OK with that. Plus, in a few years I’ll get to take on the title of “coach” when I get Faye on her first real road bike…