Its been years since I did a nicely paced group ride. There's something special about being part of the group. In the ideal, everyone pulls their own weight and everyone benefits from the collective draft. The bigger the group, the more time you have to recharge at the back, just in time for your turn at the front or that sprint up the hill during which all advantage of being in a group is lost. Group rides can be social events or they can be silent testament to each others secret desire to rip the group to shreads. Finding the right group that fits your personal desires from cycling is a rare and special thing.

Flashback 10 years ...

My first group experience. We had our doctors, lawyers, professors, etc. I'm sure I was the youngest at the time being only 20. In the beginning, it didn't take long for me to find out that I was not ready to ride with these guys. I got dropped, and the dropped, and the dropped again. The ride home after the drop can be awefully lonely. The roads were always epic with climbs to test the best and flats to let the group hammer for miles. Oh and for a bunch of non-racers, these guys hammered. Flats were consistently traversed at 27-28 MPH. Furthermore, group composition was remarkably consistent, the only one getting dropped was me that was for certain. These guys all knew each other and they were dedicated bikers. They benefitted from the discipline and focus that comes with age. I was a biking part-timer, a college student more interested in studies than anything else. I had to step it up for fear of being dropped one more damn time. And I did.
My form took shape through the group. I lost weight because I spent so much time in the saddle and because poor college students can't afford food. My legs got big and defined. I could drag my carcas up a hill like no one's business. I had rhythm (which is a bit surprising for a white guy), I had a certain approach that just seemed to work. I could hang with the group ... no problem. I worked my way in and was an official member, even if they forgot to throw a party for me. No matter, I pulled my weight and then some ... it felt good.

Flashforward to last Saturday ...

So I've got two kids, a house, and demanding job, blah, blah, blah. Bottom line, I've enough excuse material to last a lifetime. But I've been good and I'm getting better. This winter saw very little of me on the trainer, but importantly, I didn't put winter weight on either.
March was a different story.
6 days per week, 45 minutes every morning before work, my ass was on the trainer. When the snow stopped flying mid-march, my butt was outside for a one-hour morning ride before work ... 30degF ... I was the man! By the time last Sat rolled around, I actually felt pretty good. I'm nowhere near peak and I still cheat on the diet occassionally, but I was doing well. The bike felt comfortable up to the 2-hour mark afterwhich my butt and low back would begin to hurt. I was ready to jump back into the group.
I no longer live in the town where I went to college, so I heard about a 7:30AM ride that I wanted to jump in with. I show up at the coffee shop where 15 perfectly outfitted racer-types are sipping on their expresso's while lounging by the street. Oh great!, I thought. I could already picture myself sucking massive amounts of air into my bleeding lungs while watching these guys take off into the distance. I said to myself, if it happens it happens and it will only make me stronger, so bring it on. Just then, what's this? I caught a glimpse of the B-crowd hanging out IN the coffee shop. These are my guys, 40's-50's laughing it up. I walk into the shop, introduce myself and am greeted by a very friendly bunch ... this will be good ... I'll stick with them.
We head South. These guys are an extremely social bunch if not a slow bunch. We're clicking off the miles at 15MPH and I'm not breathing. I wait and wait and wait for someone to kick up the pace, but no one does. Five miles later, we're still on our Sunday drive when two impatient members take off, no one seems to care but me. I bridge and thank them. We're three and we're making good time. It must be early season for everyone as we're all breathing a bit 5 miles later. We decide we should probably stop and wait for the rest. 30 seconds later the racers come up on our tail (they left the coffee shop after us). We debate, throw caution to the wind and jump onto the end. We're moving at a rapid clip now. It turns out the racers are on an easy ride in preparation for a race the next day. It's SO MUCH easier to stay with this group of 20 persons at 5-10MPH faster than we were doing as three. AH, the power of the group. The trouble is, there's no faking it when you hit the hills. You either have it or you don't. The power of the group dissolves when the road goes vertical. Ten miles later I got spat off the back on a long incline with another one of the original three. He insisted on chasing, I insisted on keeping breakfast in my stomach. I got dropped.
The ride home was better than I anticipated it would be. It turns out the entire ride to that point had been uphill and into the wind, turn around and presto ... instant Cat 1. I was a bit saddened that I couldn't have been with the group for the downwind ... woulda been fun. In any case, the bar has been set and I have new short term goals to reach for. I'll hang by the end of the summer or simply suffer the pain of trying.

I love a good group ride.

-mark