"I've been taking advantage of you," I heard a sultry Italian voice say from behind. Looking over my left shoulder, I saw a pair of sunglasses, a big grin and a gold hoop earring glinting in the sun coming up beside me. Any conversation at this point of the GranFondo was a welcome relief -- and hard to come by. All I could see in front of me was a long line of moving cyclists with their heads down, presumably gritting their teeth and giving the last highway section before Whistler their all in order to make it to the finish line as fast as possible to end the pain. At least, that's what I was thinking.
Grinning back, I replied, with what effort I had left, "That's OK, as long as I can take advantage of you next." This was no sexual come on. In road cycling language, we had struck a bargain - you pull me then I pull you.
During my training, experienced roadies had taught me that the key to efficient road biking is to ride with a pack and rotate the head of the line, because the first person is working the hardest by breaking the wind and "pulling" the rest of the group - "drafting" off them, so to speak. But mid-ride I was disappointed to discover hardly anyone applying this technique. As several people later pointed out, this year's GranFondo, in their experience, seemed more like a free-for-all mountain bike event than a road race. But I had found a GranFondo packmate at last, and an Italian one at that. I gratefully let my new friend Antonio take the lead and, working together, we began to pass cyclists by the dozen.
When I received an email inquiring whether any staff members were interested in entering the GranFondo as part of the Glacier Media team, I didn't hesitate. That I had never owned a road bike let alone ridden one seemed irrelevant. How hard could it be? After borrowing a bike from a girlfriend, I went onto the RBC GranFondo Whistler website and realized, for the first time, that perhaps I had bitten off more than I could chew. I liked the idea of finishing between five and six hours, a realistic goal considering my lack of experience. But according to the 20-week online training program, I was 14 weeks behind schedule. Dumbfounded, I learned my suggested weekly focus should be between 190 and 215 km. I better get on this, I thought uneasily.
By the time I stood in the staging area on Georgia Street in downtown Vancouver in the early morning of Saturday (Sept. 10), I had 10 or so solo rides, three group rides, Corsa Cycles' PrimaFondo warm-up event and maybe a total of 500 km under my belt. Outfitted in the Team Whistler colours complete with Glacier Media logos, I nervously placed myself in the middle of the five-hour-finish start corral, surrounded by an ocean of extremely competent-looking road bikers. But nervousness soon gave way to anticipation - the atmosphere was electrifying. And when all 7,000 cyclists were asked to remove their helmets for the Barney Bentall-Jim Cuddy rendition of the Canadian anthem, I teared up, overwhelmed with unexpected patriotism.
Before I knew it, I was on my way up the middle of Lions Gate Bridge. "Rollin' rollin' rollin" sang out a cyclist to my right as the North Shore mountains, bathed in the day's early sunlight, came into view. After racing northbound on Highway 1 in the cool morning air, I found myself on the familiar territory of the Sea to Sky sooner than expected and spontaneously decided to cross the finish line in less than five hours - which meant stopping only when absolutely necessary and throwing all caution to the wind in terms of pacing.
Most of the ride was a blur. I vaguely remember throwing back a miniature glass of white wine in honour of the European tradition I was celebrating, one bathroom break, a man playing a full drum kit on the hill out of Squamish, and a British bloke in a skull-cap helmet riding a mountain bike who was frustrating the hell out of all the roadies he was passing.
Four hours later, "I am never doing this again" was the predominant thought in my head. The intense heat had grown unbearable, radiating up from the asphalt while the sun's rays burned into my arms and back. Spinning my legs mercilessly and holding the handlebars in a death grip, I knew I had to ignore the aching sensation permeating throughout my entire body, or I wouldn't make it. And that's when Antonio, my knight in shining Spandex, came to the rescue.
Chasing him through Whistler, I didn't let up until I had the finish line in my sights, at which point I sprinted, using a reserve of strength I didn't even know I had. Grinning from ear to ear, I finished the Fondo in 1,793rd place in a time of four hours, 51 minutes. Huge thanks to Republic Bicycles and Corsa Cycles for the group rides, Changemakers Toolbox life coach Lisa Princic for the lend of the bike, personal trainer Mike McCarney for his offer to coach me, Glacier Media regional manager Sarah Strother for getting me involved, and the 850 amazing volunteers who made it all happen. Will I be back next year? You bet. This time, in less than four.
