Hi. My name is Jason and I am a Strava Addict. An obsessive, compulsive, segment scouring, I’ll do anything for a fix, my life is falling apart but I can justify it, segment addict.
I once thought Strava segments were great. They were a way to measure yourself against teammates and rivals; providing some competition outside of a race. Well not anymore. I no longer want anyone else to join Strava unless I know they are slower than me. Matt and Bryan, stay the hell off. My coworker who just bought a used hybrid? Let me help you set up your account…
One second. How long is one second? Not long right? Well, one second haunted me for days. For some reason I had found myself in the top 10 on one of Cincinnati’s most popular hills. The people in front of me were all seriously faster than me but there were some big names behind me. I was starting to feel pretty good about this since my time had stood for quite a while. Then I noticed I got bumped to 11th! Oh well, I said. I am sure Mott, or Joe, or Dan, or some other super fast dude decided to go hard on the climb. Turns out two people were tied for 9th, pushing me to 11th. How much faster were they? They had me by ONE FREAKING SECOND! So naturally I reacted like every other Strava addict. I freaked the eff out!
We rode this segment on our Sunday morning team ride. I was not having a great day and we had already ridden 30 miles super hard by the time we hit the hill. I faded off the back as we climbed. I was not thinking about how climbing above threshold after 30 brutal miles in February will pay dividends at the Hilly Billy Roubaix in June. No, I was thinking how I was not going to move back into the top 10 on that ride. As soon as I knew I was not going to best my time I gave up a little. I still rode it hard, but I did not stand up on the last little kicker and sprint.
Monday my legs were shot so I noodled around on my lunch ride, avoiding all segments. Tuesday the weather was going to be nice and I had no meetings scheduled. So I planned my segment revenge. I installed a new bottom bracket Monday night rather than play Candyland with my daughter. (Don’t judge!). I packed a medium size baselayer rather than the large to save some weight. (I’m telling you Strava is worse than meth!). I ate a good breakfast at work. I skipped the coffee for water, I stretched at my desk. Then at lunch went out, pumped up the tires, removed my saddle bag and did not carry a water bottle. After a couple miles of warm up I attacked the segment. I made a note of the time on my Garmin at the start, and then rode as hard as I could without blowing up. Never looking at the garmin, just turning the cranks a little faster than I thought I should. I know this climb so well I know to be patient. There is a false “summit” near the top and the last kicker is exposed to the wind as there are no trees lining the road anymore so I knew to save some. I cleared the trees and stood up and sprinted for the segment end. I glanced down at the garmin and knew it would be close.
I was then in the unfortunate position of an addict knowing my next fix is coming but not for a few hours. What to do?!?! I don’t have an ANT stick at work!!! Damnit! The afternoon dragged on. 5:00 o’clock hit and I did my best Fred Flintstone and tore ass home. The dog can wait, I gotta upload! Come on! Come on! Done! Go to ride, YES, GO TO RIDE DAMNIT! 2 trophies! Wait, what if they are “3rd best time on that other segment no one cares about”? Scroll down…. And just like that first hit on the crack pipe, euphoria! PR on the segment. 9th overall! By how much? You guess it, one freaking second.
Alright, I gotta go. Someone beat my KOM on the segment I made out of my driveway… What? It’s uphill.
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