Bound for Glory

At the bottom of our last major descent of the day, my tandem pilot Bob yelled back to me “Sprinkle water on the drum brake!” I watched a weak trickle from my water bottle sizzle and pop. Water turned to gas, and it was gone. Burned up by the accumulated heat of so much resistance. If I had been capable of poetry at that point, I would have understood this as our last physical sonnet to glory.

The Rapha Gentlemen’s Race prides itself on its brutality. It is unmarshalled, unsanctioned and takes as its battle cry “Glory through Suffering.” This route dispatched us to 123 miles of grinding climbs, false summits, dust and gravel. The day handed us searing heat.

Before the race I had questioned the necessity of hitching “glory” to “suffering.” With some cheeky Buddhist logic, I dismissed suffering as a matter of perspective or mental attitude. But by the time we hit Pittsburg Road, I was reminded of the noblest truth of all:

Suffering is as ordinary and inevitable as the next breath. Glory is a state of mind.

Only 7 of the 27 teams that started this race made it to the finish intact. Riders went down with one flat after the next on the steep gravel descents. Tires blew off of rims. Riders spun out and fell at 3 miles an hour. Chains dropped. Chains broke. Drivetrains derailed. Sunstroke and dehydration plucked off even the strongest riders.

At the bottom of that last major descent, our remaining team had nothing to race but the sunset. We’d been the first to start at 9 in the morning and we’d be the last to finish, 11 ½ hours later. At this point, I winced at every bump in the road. I had sunscreen in my eyes and my hands had gone numb. We all got quiet. I think we were looking inward for what was left. I poured my last drops of will and joy into the pedals to keep them turning. It all burned up, meeting the sun at the horizon.

As I rolled into the finish, I realized that glory wasn’t waiting for me. And that all I was left with were fleeting moments of beauty and hours of transition: Water into gas. Hurt into motion. Sun into darkness.

And maybe beer and a shower.