3 days, 200 miles, and over 13,000 feet of climbing later, Team Camp 2018 has come to an end. My only regret: I should have worn more sunscreen.
After 2 months of riding in the pain cave AKA my parent’s basement, my pale, white skin was no match for the California sun. I didn’t realize until it was too late; my hands and face were badly burned, but it was worth it.
I flew out on a Thursday afternoon, shortly after completing a “short” two-and-a-half hours on the trainer. I had been looking forward to this camp for months, partly to escape the Midwest winter, but also to reconnect with my friends and teammates from last year, as well as meet my new ones. From December through January, I would close my eyes on the trainer, picturing myself under the California sun, climbing up Mt. Diablo with the boys, and bombing down descents, holding on for dear life – those dreams would soon become reality.
Day 1 – Rubber Meets Road
The most unexpected downside of training (almost) exclusively on the trainer? My cornering skills sucked. They say practice makes perfect, and it’s hard to practice cornering on a trainer.
From the first 90-degree turn of the ride, I could feel that I was a bit off. It wasn’t quite like learning how to ride a bike again, but it was pretty darn close. After 15 minutes, I was feeling more comfortable, but it was only Day 1, and we had over 200 miles and many more mountains to go.
Day 2 – Aerobic Base Miles
After a big breakfast of 50 strips of bacon and two dozen eggs (for the whole team, not just me), we headed out for a big day on the bike: 98 miles on bike paths, mountain roads, twisty descents, and windy countryside.
Did you know that California is just as windy, and sometimes windier, than the Midwest? Well, I was certainly surprised. As we set out on the first of two big riding days, the trees were bent over and the flags were violently flapping to the southeast – ominous signs of serious crosswinds. But we had a big group of over 20 riders, so protection from the wind was not hard to come by.
As we pedaled down the bike path for the first 15 miles, I got to catch up with some of my old teammates, many of whom I hadn’t seen in more than six months. Our 2018 team is also the most diverse I’ve ever been on – we have riders from Mexico, Hong Kong, and New Zealand, along with Americans from Washington all the way to New Jersey. And while most of our riders currently live in California, many have lived in places across the country and around the world – the Netherlands, Asia, Canada, Mexico, Australia; you name it (don’t say Antarctica, smart aleck), and one of our riders has probably raced there.
But it’s not only our riders who have such a wealth of knowledge and experience, but also our staff. If you’ve never heard of Freddie Rodriguez, then you’re probably not a fan of cycling. He is one of the best American riders, ever – Silver in the Junior World’s Team Time Trial, Multi-time Pro National Champion, 2nd place in Milan San Remo and Gent-Wevelgem, and podiums and wins across Europe and at the pinnacle of the sport: the Giro d’Italia and le Tour de France.
To have Freddie as part of our 2018 team, I feel very lucky. Only have there been a few dozen Americans who have gone to Europe and “made it” in the world of pro cycling; even fewer have gone on to win the biggest races in the sport, and Freddie is one of those few.
In just a few short days, he imparted so much wisdom on us, everything from training and nutrition, to race tactics and networking tips. There is so much to learn, and I found myself hanging on his every word.
If You Could Have Dinner With Any Living Celebrity, Who Would It Be?
Whether it’s Usain Bolt, Tom Hanks, or Bill Gates, we all look up to our celebrity role models. We dream of achieving the success that they have: winning an Olympic medal, starring in an Academy Award-winning film, or becoming the richest person on Earth. Now imagine getting to sit down and talk one-on-one with them for an hour. This is what happened to me when I got to ride next to Freddie at training camp.
We talked for an hour, discussing everything from soccer and junior racing, to mitochondria and diabetes (I’m a huge physiology nerd. I hope I didn’t bore him too much). By the end of the ride, I had a new perspective on training and nutrition, and I realized (not for the first time) that I can do better.
Have You Ever Had A Stroopwafel?
Before we set out on our ride on Day 2, we were treated to a presentation from our 2018 nutrition sponsor, GU. Having never used GU products before, I was really interested to see what products were available and how I could incorporate them into my nutritional plan. We heard about everything from Roctane Electrolyte Capsules to Vanilla Cream Recovery Drink Mix, and I was very impressed by the level of high-tech research and scientific testing that goes in to each and every product.
Eager to try everything out, I loaded up my bottles with some Strawberry Lemonade GU Hydration Tablets – I never thought that 10-calorie water would taste so GUd (sorry). After our first big ride, I got to try out the Vanilla Cream Recovery Mix – I was not the only rider to say this: Those recovery shakes tasted GOOD – I’ll spare you the second pun.
Too often, I see people forcing down smoothies, drinks, and food because they think it’s good for them. I give them credit; they’re trying to make smart and healthy nutritional decisions, but I also feel bad for them because they haven’t found a product or shake that they actually like the taste of!
Throughout the rest of the weekend, we devoured the rest of the GU products, and by the end of Day 3, every GU Stroopwafel was gone – it’s safe to say that we love our nutrition sponsor.
(To learn more about delicious, chocolate Stroopwafels, click here: https://guenergy.com/ )
Day 3 – Haute Route San Francisco
On the third day of Team Camp, we prepared ourselves for a big one: 83 miles and over 9,000 feet of climbing, a route that will make up part of the Haute Route San Francisco in April. Our ride served as a recon for the Stage 1 course, scoping out the roads and descents, making sure that the roads are perfect, safe, and tons of fun. Full Haute Route San Francisco details can be found here: https://www.hauteroute.org/events/view-stage/haute-route-san-francisco-2018-stage-1
Starting at Peet’s Coffee in Berkeley, CA, we met up with a group of more than 40 riders and fueled up on coffee and espresso (or hot chocolate, in my case). Our team manager drove a “sag-wagon” behind us: our team van filled with GU products, spare wheels, and extra clothing – this is a rare luxury that we only really get at team training camp, and it always makes our team look extra “pro.”
After grinding up some steep hills and bombing down gnarly descents (I don’t know if it’s just because I’m from the flatlands of the Midwest, but these California guys can carve out descents like Salt Bae guy carves up a piece of lamb – In other words, it’s beautiful), we pulled up to another Peet’s Coffee, this one being 25 miles from the first. 20 shots of espresso later (for the team, again, not just me), we headed out towards Mt Diablo.
I had heard many stories about Mt Diablo: Tour of California riders dominating the Top 10 on Strava, the famous section of road where Bradley Wiggins got on the front and drilled the field to pieces, and stories of my team director descending down Diablo so fast that his friends would fly off the road trying to follow him.
I can confidently say, Mt Diablo lived up to expectations.
Freddie led us out at the bottom of the climb, stringing out the group into one panting, suffering, and single file line. We rode really hard for five minutes, and we were already down to 6 riders. I hunched over the bars and took a couple peeks at my power numbers: 348 Watts, 350, 360… Cooper gets on the front – 448 Watts, 450, 460 … Wait, 460?! How is that possible?! Cooper keeps going, and going, and going; it’s been over 3 minutes now and he’s still on the front. This really, really hurts. I don’t want to be here anymore. I don’t think I can do this anymore.
I start to drop away from the wheel in front of me. It’s only a 1 foot gap, but on a climb this steep, a foot is all it takes, and then you’re alone. Wait, what are you doing? You’ve been dreaming of this moment for months. You’ve worked too hard for this! Get back on that wheel!! I stand up and dig deep, pushing hard on the pedals for a few agonizing seconds – and just like that, I’m back in the group.
Almost to the top, I tell myself (I really had no idea how far we had to go. I had turned off my Garmin after Cooper got on the front. When I’m suffering this hard, I don’t look at the numbers, they only mess with my head).
We round a left-hand bend and I can see the top. I get in the drops to sprint, but the top is a STOP sign, and there’s a park ranger standing a few feet away, arms crossed, glaring at us. I don’t sprint, and my teammates peel off just before the STOP sign. No illegal activities to see here.
Digging Deep For The First Time Since November
Cycling is such an interesting sport. 5 minutes ago, I wanted to quit. I wanted to stop riding, right then and there. Why do I put myself through this? This is so dumb, and it hurts so badly, why would I voluntarily hurt myself so much?
But then I get to the top, and my teammates and I are smiling. Between coughs, sniffles, and heavy breathing, we laugh, smile, and give each other fist-bumps. A job well done. That was awesome, we all say.
There is something about this level of suffering, this level of physical and mental pain that opens up something inside of us. Sure, we are all good friends sitting around the dinner table, but after smashing each other to bits up Mt Diablo, there is a unique camaraderie that emerges, and it is beautiful to see. Our directors said it, my teammates said it, and I saw it with my own two eyes:
This team is something special, and big things are coming for Team California in 2018.