Staring up Willis Point Road, with the late afternoon sun beating down, we were told to pick a partner for some sprints. Just like our sprint circuit down Harbour Road except up a hill. Sprints... up a hill. Riiight. Let me just get my jet pack.
Tour de Rock training gets harder every week, we know that, but that doesn’t mean we’re not continually surprised by what’s expected of us.
So we took off in pairs, trying to get as much momentum on the flat bits to shoot us up the steady grade. Trainers Donna and Bobfather were waiting halfway up the hill at the turnaround point. My legs could barely push the pedals around by the time I reached the turnaround, just behind Dean Norris-Jones who won the first sprint.
We did the sprints in sets of three, so as soon as our quads got a break by coasting downhill we turned around and went again.
By sprint number seven, I’m thinking I’m either going to cry or collapse. But a thought entered my mind, a thought we’re told to remember any time we’re ready to throw in the towel.
“It’s not as tough as chemo,” I thought. There are so many children bravely staring down cancer and riding a bike up a hill can’t even compare to their struggle. “It’s not as tough as chemo.”
I start repeating that over and over and literally the next two climbs seemed easier, my resolve strengthened.
We finished the nine laps, completely spent, and thought that was a wrap. But CTV’s Chandler Grieve had two laps to go to catch up. In the middle of his shift, he drove his car to meet us a the base of Willis Point Road and had to change from suit to spandex on the side of the road.
“We’ve got to get a phone booth out here for Chandler,” Jen Young quipped, clearly impressed with his quick costume change.
Our trainer Steve Robinson gave us a quick pep talk that reminded us about the importance of sticking together as a team.
“At some point we’re all going to have to rally around someone. Maybe you’ve lost someone to cancer or you’re struggling one day during a ride. You can’t do 1,100 kilometres on your own, you just can’t,” Robinson said, referring to the 1,100 kilometres we’ll do during the big ride across the Island in September. “So Chandler has two more laps to do, are you going to make him do them alone or are you going to do them with him?”
Obviously, the answer was to join him in another two laps.
After that, we lined up as a team and tackled the entire hill (well as far as we’ve gone in the past anyways — I’m told there’s a sneaky second part of the hill that remains out of sight and once we’re introduced to it, we’ll never forget.) Dean calls the hill a seductress: Once you think you’ve seen all of her, there’s still more to be revealed.
It was definitely slow going as we tried our best to stick together in two neat lines, chugging steadily like a train up a mountainside.
We were a bit broken on the first third of the ascent but Steve said the last two-thirds were “text book perfect” in terms of staying together and effectively drafting each other.
We finally got to the fun part of flying down the hill, trying to stay with a partner to get comfortable travelling fast with someone right beside you.
Speaking of fast, note to all motorcyclists or daredevils who chose Willis Point Road as a speed-demon’s rollercoaster: If you see 13 cyclists in matching blue training gear, you’re probably passing a horde of cops who are going to take down your licence plate when you zoom by doing a buck 60 on that sportbike of yours. That is all.
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Katie DeRosa is one of the media riders for this year’s Cops for Cancer Tour de Rock, a 13-day bike ride from Port Alice to Victoria. Follow DeRosa's blog for details about the ongoing training, leading up to full coverage of the ride Sept. 20 to Oct. 3. To donate to her fundraising campaign, click here.
