Fiddler's Elbow Road rises 580 feet over just .7 miles but hits a crazy slope of 20-25%. After doing some more research, I convinced myself to try this hill out. The distance of the hill is not that long. Hell, I just climbed up Bear Mountain which is well over 2 miles, but it's the impact of the slope of the hill that will get you. Last year I climbed up Gibraltar Road in Santa Barbara, which is the same route Lance Armstrong used to train on. Gibraltar Road consists of over 5000 vertical feet of climbing over 12 miles but the biggest slope was 13% (Which is very tough... for people who live in my area, Warrenville Road is sloped at 15%). My point I am trying to make is even though I have done some tough, arduous climbs previously, this is one is going to take more out of me.
That being said, I felt confident enough in my abilities that I would complete it and add it to my training regiment.
With this addition, I added 6 more miles and of course, the Mount Ventoux of New Jersey (1), making this ride one of my toughest.
(1) Mount Ventoux is arguably the most famous French mountain and is a staple in the Tour de France. It is also a bucket list item to bike up. Here is a photo:
So last week, I drove down to Milford to start the ride and it was a tough even before the start of the hill. I just didn't feel right. I took the day off before so I couldn't comprehend feeling so lethargic. I am attempting the hardest hill in NJ and I couldn't gather the energy to feel excited about it. For whatever reason, the adrenaline glands were operating properly. This was not looking good.
However, this is not necessarily a bad thing. I start off rides feeling terrible all the time and usually, I always come out feeling strong. Or, at least, that's what I was hoping.
When I made the right off of the main street to start the climb, the hill kicked in right away. It was tough but I got through the beginning part. There was a brief moment to relax as the hill leveled out for a little bit, but then when the road curved around a corner, it was like Three Levels of Hell. I barely got through the first two and at the time, I thought I conquered the hill. The road bends and curves with mostly trees covering the line of sight so it was hard to see the top or where you are even going next, but as I got around another turn in the road, Fiddler's Elbow showed me why it is the toughest rated hill in NJ. I swear to you it looked like I was about to climb up a vertical wall. To say it was intimidating is not paying any respect. I was worried because I have not attempted anything like this before. As I started the last part of the climb, I was struggling mightily. Every stroke of the pedal became a struggle and I was quickly questioning my ability.
You have to remember that cycling is by far my greatest strength and a weapon on the race course. I even fancy myself quite the climber. I have tackled some of the toughest hills all over the world including France, Wales, and California. I did not think this hill would challenge me like this.
About halfway up the hill, it quickly entered my mind that I should quit and walk the bike up rest of the hill. Fiddler's Elbow was exactly the halfway point in the ride and I know there are at least two tough and long hills to climb up before I am finished. I tried to battle these demons because all I can think about is being a quitter and how I greatly underestimated this opponent. How could I be so naive?
I battled the pros and cons of walking up the rest of the hill but all I was really doing was compromising my failure. I was barely making any ground up the hill each stroke I furiously put down on the pedals. The hill was extracting my energy one turn of the crank shaft way more than I could fathom. I fought off giving up as much as I could but by the end, I was only fighting for pride.
Fiddler's Elbow pointed out a major weakness of my training I knew for years but have done nothing about. Sometimes, you have to push yourself to the brink to realize what you need to work on the most.
I have read in countless books the importance of your weight, especially with riding your bike, is paramount. There is even a simple calculation of watts per pound to illustrate the difference between being average and winning the Tour de France. The magic number off winning the Tour is 3.05 watts per pound (6.7 watts per kilogram as it's known in Cycling corners) and it's simply based off the amount of power you produce every stroke per one pound of weight. Now, I know I put down a lot of force every stroke but my weight has constantly be fluctuating between 190-205. I have never been measured to know how much power I exactly produce but it would be irrelevant since I have not put in the work to lose the necessary pounds to inch closer to the magic number.
Granted, I am not trying to win the Tour de France but I am trying to qualify for the World Championship and everything adds up, literally and figuratively.
That additional weight was bringing me down every srtoke and I felt it. So much, that half way up the hill I had to bail. I couldn't do it. The hill demoralized me. I was humbled and rightfully so. I would never say I was cocky because I always compare myself to professionals and feel inadequate in comparison, but I would definitely defend that I am a better than average cyclist that has conquered some world renowned climbs with vigorous execution.
It wasn't enough.
I finally met my match and with a positive spin, that's what happens when you challenge yourself. You are going to run into some walls every now and about. That's the beauty of anything competitive. The digger you deep, the more obstacles you have to climb.
That being said, the feeling of being humbled by a hill is a not something I took lightly and still don't take lightly. I walked the bike up the rest of the way and finished the ride. I did my best to make the rest of the training regiment count but the failure of not making up the hill haunted me. It consumed and poisoned my mind the entire remainer of the ride.
After every big workout, I always celebrate with a large battlre cry (I yell really loudly) but I couldn't conjure up the energy to do it, or better said, I didn't feel adequate enough to exert any positive output.
I was defeated.
I even texted my close friends and training partners in crime the following:
Fiddler's Elbow: 1
Derek Smith: 0
This occurred over a month ago but tomorrow I plan to attack the same hill. I would be lying if I told you that I am not afraid to fail again. I cannot stress enough how upset it made me. I never had to bail on a hill before and I really don't plan to do it again. I have trained extensively and lost 18 pounds since that day in preparation for this.
We'll see what happens.
I will let you how everything turns out and include the importance of portioning your food in my next post.
Keep training hard and I will leave you with this quote by the great philosopher William James (my favorite philosopher by the way). I think it may be a little relevant to what I have been talking about:
“Beyond the very extreme of fatigue and distress, we may find amounts of ease and power we never dreamed ourselves to own; sources of strength never taxed at all because we never push through the obstruction."
Thanks for reading
