Many of my fellow COALITION teammates have been singing the praises of the Zwift Insider Tiny Race Series created by Eric. From my side, since they were created I have been reluctant to register for two reasons.
Tiny Races? Not my type.
First reason: the format is exactly the opposite of my natural skills. Everything is decided in short and extreme efforts I am not good at.
I am the lousiest sprinter in the world.
I am super bad at 1-minute efforts.
Okayish at 5-minute efforts.
And my best at 10-minute+ efforts.
If you don’t believe me, take a look at my power profile. Data does not lie:
Second reason: I know Eric well enough, and nothing good can come from his grey cells. One way or another, whatever he has conspired within the four walls of his pain cave will involve enormous amounts of pain, absurd quantities of acid lactic production, and humiliating post-mortem analysis.
If you know me as well as I know Eric, you have already anticipated that anything combining pain, acid lactic production, and humiliating post-mortem analysis will be the most appealing event ever for me.
That is the reason why, on October 22nd 2022 at 4PM CET I was in the pen with another 91 half-brained category A zwifters. Normally there are some exchanges in Zwift chat, but this time it seemed nobody was cynical enough to wish others good luck. For once most of the participants were still connected to reality and acknowledging that the next hour would be like living beyond hell. Silence seemed appropriate.
First Race: Discovering New Limits of Pain
The first race was a tiny 3.2km race on Hilly Route, including a 0.9km climb at 6%. 3, 2, 1, GO! I go immediately at 600w to make sure I am not left behind. But still I am left behind! Fast-forward 6 minutes and I am totally blind, HR is at 178 BPM crossing the line, I have a weird metal flavor in my mouth, I am a little dizzy and barely able to remember my name.
I pretty much feel as if I have had one round boxing against Tyson, followed by one round fighting against The Rock, with my hands and legs tied. I have barely enough oxygen in my brain to click to join the next event (Race 2 of 4) starting in exactly 8 minutes. No way no way no way!!! Eight minutes!!!! I need at least 8 days to recover from this one!!! And the worst thing of all is that I was ranked 71st!!!! I almost died to arrive 71st out of 94!!!!
Second Race: Steamroller Feeling + Dance
The second race is a close to 6km flat race on Bell Lap. 3, 2, 1, GO! Fast-forward 7 minutes and any resemblance with an actual human being is pure coincidence. I am uncontrollably drooling, my knees are shaking, I hear something similar to a whistle inside my head and I don’t know where it comes from. This time I feel like those cartoon characters that have been run over by a (this time the powerup one) steamroller.
And I finished 62nd!!!! Not that I can be proud of it, but at least it is not as laughable as the first one!!! And still 2 to go. What did I sign up for?
At that precise moment I remember I promised I would make a video of myself dancing to the Dirty Dancing tune “Time of My Life” to cheer up a Coalition teammate. And I still have 5 minutes to do it. I’m sure you are desperately hoping for me to share the video…
(I don’t know if I have mentioned it previously, but since my English is ok but not perfect, my wife reads and corrects my articles for Zwift Insider before I send them to Eric. You can rightly assume she is quite immune to the things I share and I am convinced at this point in time there are very few things that I would write or post that would embarrass her. The following picture, a screenshot of the short video of the dance, is definitely one of them 😳.)
That’s all I am going to share here. I leave the rest to your imagination.
Third Race: as Good, or Not that Awful, as it Gets
I barely make it to the bike to start the third leg on time. UCI Worlds Harrogate Circuit, 6.3km with Harlow Hill climb almost at the beginning. Fast forward 8 minutes and this time I am having convulsions like you have never seen before. Muscles are tetanized and not even able to cramp. But I check the ranking and…. 44th!!!!
It means that others are dying faster than I do!!! I could not care less if there is nothing left of me that would suggest I am able to make the 4th race, because others seem to be suffering even more. YES!!!! Others suffer more!!!! YES!!!!
If you are asking yourselves if I am such an a**hole that I rejoice from others suffering more than me, I confirm it. For the third time, YES, I am so happy to be in atrocious pain if others are in even more atrocious pain. If the 43 guys crossing the line before me could simply abandon and not participate in the 4th race because of that atrocious pain I would be the happiest man in the world!
Fourth Race: Back to My Laughable Reality
Just a moment to think and the 4th race, a 7.5km one in Park Perimeter Loop, begins. I hate Park Perimeter loop! The succession of 30 seconds to 1-minute efforts is the antithesis of the rider I am. Eric did it on purpose only and exclusively to bother me. Fast forward 10 minutes (I should write slow forward ten minutes to be more descriptive of my performance) and I am literally crying like a kid who has been bullied by 65 other kids…
I literally drop from my bike and find myself with half my body covering the side of the rocker plate and the other half soaking the floor. Hyperventilating is already a superlative, so if you manage to get something representing the superlative of hyperventilating, that would be me. I feel I am just a pile of stinky bones previously chewed by the Titans Grove T-Rex. The adjective stinky is very relevant here, as Luna, my dog, approached and smelled me, also started hyperventilating, sneezed five times, and ran away to the upper floor of the house. Luna had at least the decency, out of respect for me, not to howl and scratch the front door of the house.
Back to data. My final ranking: 69th.
Booing is allowed AND deserved.
A good ten minutes later, I miraculously find the strength to jump back on the bike and join the after-party Tiny Race group ride chit-chat.
My intention is just to be polite. Enter the ride, send one message to congratulate Eric on the event and disconnect immediately.
But the second I send my message to the crowd “Great event, had a lot of fun!” I receive a private message from Eric: “Hey Sir!”
Spontaneously, my reaction was to answer « don’t freaking Hey Sir me! Don’t behave like nothing happened and you were not accountable for my misery! You tricked hundreds of us into this obnoxious trap! »
But I had no physical capacity to be upset and threw back a simple « Hey! »
Eric: “B race level was stratospheric, I can’t imagine what you have endured in cat A Luciano”
So, not only did Eric invent this abomination, but on top of it he was making fun of me pretending he would not know how hard it was going to be?!
The following image, accompanied by a replica of the evil laugh of Jack Nicholson in “The Shining”, seized my soul.
I remained strangely silent, but in French we say “la revanche est un plat qui se mange froid”. Eric: you can Google translate it and take it however you want. 😈
Last Words
The format is great, dynamic, and is the essence of having fun while Zwifting. Four huge shots of adrenaline in less than one hour. It hurts me to acknowledge it, but for once Eric did something right, as I got all the suffering, pain, and post-mortem humiliation that he originally promised.
Tiny race, huge blast. I am definitely coming back.
Editor’s (Eric’s) note: while Luciano may have cursed my name during the Tiny Race, he did manage to earn ZwiftPower ranking upgrades in all 4 races. Well done sir. You’re welcome!
wpDiscuz
