Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Cool Idea to Retrofit Rear Discs
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Tour de Cure: Reflections, Part II
Saturday night, we were told the 'official' start time for the Sunday ride was 7:30, but anybody who wanted to get an early start was welcome to, as long as they understood that they would be riding unsupported until the rest stops opened at the normal times.
With a weather forecast of "unbearably hot, with a 40% chance of thunderstorms", I thought starting early was a good idea. I decided to leave my fenders on, even though they were making annoying noise on rough roads. After all, nothing prevents rain better than being prepared for it.
While getting ready, I realized I'd forgotten to pack one item: extra chamois cream. I dreaded a 100 miles without it, on a rear that had already taken a day's worth of abuse. I did the best I could with what I had, and resolved to check my handlebar bag for my emergency stash.
We got to the start around 6:30. Bikes had been brought out of overnight storage, but there were so few people about that it looked like the rapture had come and taken all the cyclists.
I'd eaten breakfast, and only had to fill my bottles before I hit the road. Well, that, and find my bike. After locating it, I tip-toed through the Treks, then gingerly picked it up and carried it out of the way of bikes that probably cost more than my car. My one bike splurge - a Brooks B-17 leather saddle - had been laying on the dew-kissed grass, which pleased me not at all. But it hadn't been there THAT long, and I regularly apply proofide to it, so I dried it off and left it at that.
I checked my bar bag for my emergency chamois cream - no luck. Well, there was nothing for it. With a kiss and a wave to my lovely wife, I headed out for the 2nd day a few minutes before 7.
That turned out to be the perfect time. I passed the first aid station before it was open, but knew they'd be ready when I passed it again at the end of the 25 mile loop that was the difference between century riders and 75-milers. I rode with one gentleman for about 10 miles; we chatted amiably as we rode, both of us more interested in enjoying the relatively cool morning than we were in hamming down the road.
After I turned off for the loop, I spent a good deal of Sunday riding alone. Some cyclists may dislike that, but I find it peaceful. Twice, I saw a gray fox, but otherwise enjoyed watching the countryside go past in the quiet morning, accompanied by the sound of the wind rushing past my ears and the susurration of my bicycle chain.
I suppose that's one of the many things that is so special about charity rides. If you want to ride alone, you can. If you want to ride with a group, you can. If, like me, you enjoy both, you can mix it up and do a little here and there.
As the day progressed, I started seeing the effects of the weather and the miles on other riders. There were quite a few who sagged out - called a support vehicle for a ride to the next rest stop or the entire way to the finish. Some had mechanical failures that stopped them, but it seems like quite a few were simply worn down by a combination of dehydration, exhaustion, bonking, and the relentless heat.
I didn't realize how much it was affecting me until about 85 miles into the ride. With about 20 miles to go, my hands and rear were both in pain. I couldn't find a comfortable place on the saddle, and that in turn kept me from adjusting my hands on the bars as much as I needed to. My pace dropped from a stately 15-18mph to a lethargic 12mph, and it became obvious that I was getting tired. I upped my liquid intake, popped some electrolyte tabs, ate some fast-acting energy, and hoped that my shotgun approach would fix the problem. When I pulled into the last rest stop, I felt more energetic, but still in pain. I finally found my emergency chamois cream, applied it to where I hurt the most, and looked forward to the end of the ride. It helped.
When I got to the finish, I was greeted by the best sight ever: my wife, grandson, & as many of our kids as could fit in our van were waiting for me, cheering me on. It felt good to finish; it felt better that it was all for a good cause, but it the best thing was a kind and giving wife waiting for me at the end of it all.
While getting ready, I realized I'd forgotten to pack one item: extra chamois cream. I dreaded a 100 miles without it, on a rear that had already taken a day's worth of abuse. I did the best I could with what I had, and resolved to check my handlebar bag for my emergency stash.
We got to the start around 6:30. Bikes had been brought out of overnight storage, but there were so few people about that it looked like the rapture had come and taken all the cyclists.
I'd eaten breakfast, and only had to fill my bottles before I hit the road. Well, that, and find my bike. After locating it, I tip-toed through the Treks, then gingerly picked it up and carried it out of the way of bikes that probably cost more than my car. My one bike splurge - a Brooks B-17 leather saddle - had been laying on the dew-kissed grass, which pleased me not at all. But it hadn't been there THAT long, and I regularly apply proofide to it, so I dried it off and left it at that.
That turned out to be the perfect time. I passed the first aid station before it was open, but knew they'd be ready when I passed it again at the end of the 25 mile loop that was the difference between century riders and 75-milers. I rode with one gentleman for about 10 miles; we chatted amiably as we rode, both of us more interested in enjoying the relatively cool morning than we were in hamming down the road.
After I turned off for the loop, I spent a good deal of Sunday riding alone. Some cyclists may dislike that, but I find it peaceful. Twice, I saw a gray fox, but otherwise enjoyed watching the countryside go past in the quiet morning, accompanied by the sound of the wind rushing past my ears and the susurration of my bicycle chain.
As the day progressed, I started seeing the effects of the weather and the miles on other riders. There were quite a few who sagged out - called a support vehicle for a ride to the next rest stop or the entire way to the finish. Some had mechanical failures that stopped them, but it seems like quite a few were simply worn down by a combination of dehydration, exhaustion, bonking, and the relentless heat.
I didn't realize how much it was affecting me until about 85 miles into the ride. With about 20 miles to go, my hands and rear were both in pain. I couldn't find a comfortable place on the saddle, and that in turn kept me from adjusting my hands on the bars as much as I needed to. My pace dropped from a stately 15-18mph to a lethargic 12mph, and it became obvious that I was getting tired. I upped my liquid intake, popped some electrolyte tabs, ate some fast-acting energy, and hoped that my shotgun approach would fix the problem. When I pulled into the last rest stop, I felt more energetic, but still in pain. I finally found my emergency chamois cream, applied it to where I hurt the most, and looked forward to the end of the ride. It helped.
When I got to the finish, I was greeted by the best sight ever: my wife, grandson, & as many of our kids as could fit in our van were waiting for me, cheering me on. It felt good to finish; it felt better that it was all for a good cause, but it the best thing was a kind and giving wife waiting for me at the end of it all.
In the end, my fenders worked as expected: it never did rain all weekend.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Tour de Cure: Reflections, Part I
It's hard to believe that the 2011 Tour de Cure has come and gone. I'd like to take a moment to thank everybody who supported the American Diabetes Association with a donation; overall, the NC riders raised over $200,000!
 |
| Anjela & Richard |
 |
| Clyde the Commuter |
As a result, I got to bed so late that I got less than five hours of sleep. You can see why I love coffee so much. I made a pot Saturday morning, drank a couple of cups before I went out the door, and took two travel mugs with me so I could drink them before the start. At least this time I wasn't too full to drink it all.
 |
| Fig Bars: Inexpensive, Effective, Dry, and Tasteless |
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| Crossing the Finish; I'm not tired; I'm checking my odometer. |
I spent most of Saturday riding with one group or another. I'd be overtaken by a group of slightly faster riders, and I'd stick with them until the next rest stop, where they'd stop while I kept riding. Often, the same riders would catch up to me again about halfway to the next stop, where we'd repeat the process. There were a some who must have passed me a half dozen times.
 |
| OK, maybe just a little tired. |
As Anjela drove us back to our hotel, I was glad the day was done, and was looking forward to a good night's rest before the second day of the tour.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Tour de Cure: Day Two
107.7 Miles.
8 hours, 19 minutes.
Overall: 216.7 miles, 15 hours, 49 minutes.
I was much slower today, which was to be expected. The volunteers were GREAT!
8 hours, 19 minutes.
Overall: 216.7 miles, 15 hours, 49 minutes.
I was much slower today, which was to be expected. The volunteers were GREAT!
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Tour de Cure: Day One
109 miles, 7 hours, 30 minutes.
The route was supposed to be 101 miles, but some road work detours extended it... then a missed turn due to a bad cue sheet added a couple more miles.
I stopped twice to fix an annoying rattle coming from my rear fender; it's better, but still there. I'd remove them, but there's a forecast for rain tomorrow.
The route was supposed to be 101 miles, but some road work detours extended it... then a missed turn due to a bad cue sheet added a couple more miles.
I stopped twice to fix an annoying rattle coming from my rear fender; it's better, but still there. I'd remove them, but there's a forecast for rain tomorrow.
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Must. Have. Coffee.
Woke up @ 5:30... already running late, but have to stop by Sbux on the way to the TdC start...
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Friday, June 3, 2011
Ready, Set....
Just spent the last two hours making sure everything was ready for tomorrow's Tour de Cure.
I delayed getting ready because I just finished celebrating my 5th wedding anniversary. So much for a good night's sleep before the ride!
I delayed getting ready because I just finished celebrating my 5th wedding anniversary. So much for a good night's sleep before the ride!
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Another Early Morning
What was I thinking? What insanity possessed me to voluntarily wake up at Five a.m. on a Saturday? Oh, right... a bike ride, my last long-distance training opportunity before the Tour de Cure; my first opportunity to ride with some long-distance 'randonneuring' cyclists that live in the area. I didn't realize when I agreed to this that I had to drive an hour to get to the Seven a.m. starting point.
So here I was, getting ready to head out the door. I'd done a lot Friday night - checked tire pressure, filled my water bottles, packed my bike and gear in the car, laid out my clothes, etc... Still, at Five a.m., it took me a while to get going. I had a pre-ride breakfast while I made coffee. I was too sleepy to remember that I have to drink BEFORE eating; I was too sleepy to remember that I also needed to drink extra water that morning.
I hit the door by Six, a water bottle in one hand, two coffee tumblers precariously balanced in the other, and no idea how I'd drink half of it in the time I had. I needed the water; I needed the caffeine. But, with a full stomach, I couldn't drink both. I set aside the the 32 oz of coffee, and replaced it with a 4oz espresso I picked up on the way. Me, skipping coffee? At six a.m.? Madness. Madness, I say. The espresso helped.
Knowing that the day would be hot, and that I'd have to fight dehydration all day, I drank the water first, and finished off the espresso when I arrived. I met Alan and Mike at a McDonald's in North Raleigh. As they unloaded their gear, they moved like elite soldiers preparing for a mission they'd done a thousand times - No wasted movement, no indecision on what gear to bring, how to carry it, or how to get it out of their trucks. Everything had it's purpose, everything had it's place. I was secretly glad I'd arrived early and parked further away, so they didn't see me struggle to get my bike out of the van, add and remove items from my bike and pockets, or change my mind two or three times on how much food to bring, or whether to carry a third water bottle. With a couple of 100k rides and a 100miler behind me, I thought I'd be less indecisive. I brought my phone with me for emergencies, but I was determined to leave it turned off in my jersey except at stops where I'd check for important messages. No e-mail, cell phone, voice mail, IM, twitter, facebook, 4square, yelp, or google this that or the other.
Mike & Alan gave me the rundown on how the day was going to go. We'd leave McDonald's after breakfast, follow the turn-by-turn cue sheets, stop along the way at predetermined checkpoints ('Controls', in randonneuring parlance), and end up back where we started sometime that afternoon. Randonneuring isn't about speed - it's about completing the course within a certain, generous time. No distinctions are made between the first or last finisher. This sounded like my kind of riding, especially since I was pretty sure I knew who the last finisher would be.
We left McDonald's about 7:15, and right away I discovered that Alan was a talker. Whenever traffic was light enough, he'd ride side-by-side so he could chat me up. I discovered that he's part of a dying breed: a truly tough guy who doesn't take 'impossible' as an answer. At 68 years old, six years after a near-fatal bike accident that required multiple surgeries and six months of rehab, this ride would mark his 24th straight month in which he rode a 200k. He's ridden 300, 400, and 600k rides this year, and eight years ago rode the oldest and most epic cycling event: the Paris-Brest-Paris, a 1200k self-sufficient ride that you have to complete in 96 hours. To answer the age-old question first posted on a Saturday Night Live skit: "Quién es más macho?" Alan es más macho.
We took turns leading. I didn't lead nearly as much as either of them, but when I did, I distinguished myself by missing a turn due to a twisted roadsign; Alan and Mike, who had ridden the route dozens of times, called me back. We pulled into the first control, a gas station / convenience store, around 10:00. We refilled our bottles, ate a quick snack, and were back on the road after about 10 minutes.
After a while I realized that, in the midst of Alan telling me his cycling history, he was subtly pouring his collected wisdom into my brain. Discoveries of what did and didn't work for him on frame materials, frame geometry, food choices, hydration, sleep, maintenance, tire size and design, brakes, etc... Problems come up in long-distance riding that you just don't see anywhere else. He was providing me decades worth of trail-and-error results that I truly appreciate. Mike chimed in with some thoughts of his own. He had different solutions to similar problems, but I could see the reasons behind each of their decisions. Each made choices that suited their particular needs, and I imagine that as I struggle to solve the same problems, I'll keep their advice in mind as I find my own solutions that are tailored to MY particular circumstances.
After a while, the need to talk subsided, and we rode on in silence. The warming sun, a cooling breeze, and the near-silent swish of three well-greased chains were all that accompanied my thoughts as my eyes took in the slowly-changing country scenery. I rode for miles like this, occasionally interrupted by the sound of an approaching car, or the bark of an unsecured dog that wanted to give chase.
We hit the turn-around point in Black Creek around noon. We ate lunch as we rested on the bench outside the grocery store. After about 20 minutes, we hopped back in our saddles and turned our wheels back to Raleigh. For me, this second half of a ride is always the easiest. The miles before the halfway point are a mental challenge because there's that annoying inner voice that reminds me how easy it would be to give up and go home. But after I reach the halfway point, the decision to ride the miles ahead of me has already been made; everything that follows is as inevitable as the setting sun. Since I no longer have to struggle with my inner weakness, the rest of the ride may as well be downhill with following winds.
At least that's my theory. My body had other ideas. By the time we got to the next control, my lower back was hurting and my hands were flirting with numbness. I did some stretching, which helped, but not enough. A few miles later, I told Alan to go ahead without me while I stopped to stretch. Mike had already left us behind, and I strongly suspect that Alan had only been riding with me out of courtesy to the new guy. After I stretched, I raised my handlebars so I wouldn't put so much strain on my back or weight on my hands. It made a huge difference. I caught up with Alan and Mike as they leisurely waited for me at another gas station. Kindly, they pretended they'd just arrived, and we all took a break and drank some water to help cool off. When we got back on our bikes, we had just 10 miles to go.
I pulled into the McDonald's around 5:25, put my bike and gear in the van, and went inside to officially complete the trip. We treated ourselves to dessert, and chatted about the ride. Yes, I was the last to finish, but I finished, and that's what was important. It took me just over 10 hours to ride 127 miles, about how long it took for me to ride 100 miles just last month. I'm quite pleased with that.
When I got back to my van, I discovered two tumblers full of coffee that were still hot. I drank it all before I got home.
So here I was, getting ready to head out the door. I'd done a lot Friday night - checked tire pressure, filled my water bottles, packed my bike and gear in the car, laid out my clothes, etc... Still, at Five a.m., it took me a while to get going. I had a pre-ride breakfast while I made coffee. I was too sleepy to remember that I have to drink BEFORE eating; I was too sleepy to remember that I also needed to drink extra water that morning.
I hit the door by Six, a water bottle in one hand, two coffee tumblers precariously balanced in the other, and no idea how I'd drink half of it in the time I had. I needed the water; I needed the caffeine. But, with a full stomach, I couldn't drink both. I set aside the the 32 oz of coffee, and replaced it with a 4oz espresso I picked up on the way. Me, skipping coffee? At six a.m.? Madness. Madness, I say. The espresso helped.
Knowing that the day would be hot, and that I'd have to fight dehydration all day, I drank the water first, and finished off the espresso when I arrived. I met Alan and Mike at a McDonald's in North Raleigh. As they unloaded their gear, they moved like elite soldiers preparing for a mission they'd done a thousand times - No wasted movement, no indecision on what gear to bring, how to carry it, or how to get it out of their trucks. Everything had it's purpose, everything had it's place. I was secretly glad I'd arrived early and parked further away, so they didn't see me struggle to get my bike out of the van, add and remove items from my bike and pockets, or change my mind two or three times on how much food to bring, or whether to carry a third water bottle. With a couple of 100k rides and a 100miler behind me, I thought I'd be less indecisive. I brought my phone with me for emergencies, but I was determined to leave it turned off in my jersey except at stops where I'd check for important messages. No e-mail, cell phone, voice mail, IM, twitter, facebook, 4square, yelp, or google this that or the other.
Mike & Alan gave me the rundown on how the day was going to go. We'd leave McDonald's after breakfast, follow the turn-by-turn cue sheets, stop along the way at predetermined checkpoints ('Controls', in randonneuring parlance), and end up back where we started sometime that afternoon. Randonneuring isn't about speed - it's about completing the course within a certain, generous time. No distinctions are made between the first or last finisher. This sounded like my kind of riding, especially since I was pretty sure I knew who the last finisher would be.
We left McDonald's about 7:15, and right away I discovered that Alan was a talker. Whenever traffic was light enough, he'd ride side-by-side so he could chat me up. I discovered that he's part of a dying breed: a truly tough guy who doesn't take 'impossible' as an answer. At 68 years old, six years after a near-fatal bike accident that required multiple surgeries and six months of rehab, this ride would mark his 24th straight month in which he rode a 200k. He's ridden 300, 400, and 600k rides this year, and eight years ago rode the oldest and most epic cycling event: the Paris-Brest-Paris, a 1200k self-sufficient ride that you have to complete in 96 hours. To answer the age-old question first posted on a Saturday Night Live skit: "Quién es más macho?" Alan es más macho.
We took turns leading. I didn't lead nearly as much as either of them, but when I did, I distinguished myself by missing a turn due to a twisted roadsign; Alan and Mike, who had ridden the route dozens of times, called me back. We pulled into the first control, a gas station / convenience store, around 10:00. We refilled our bottles, ate a quick snack, and were back on the road after about 10 minutes.
After a while I realized that, in the midst of Alan telling me his cycling history, he was subtly pouring his collected wisdom into my brain. Discoveries of what did and didn't work for him on frame materials, frame geometry, food choices, hydration, sleep, maintenance, tire size and design, brakes, etc... Problems come up in long-distance riding that you just don't see anywhere else. He was providing me decades worth of trail-and-error results that I truly appreciate. Mike chimed in with some thoughts of his own. He had different solutions to similar problems, but I could see the reasons behind each of their decisions. Each made choices that suited their particular needs, and I imagine that as I struggle to solve the same problems, I'll keep their advice in mind as I find my own solutions that are tailored to MY particular circumstances.
After a while, the need to talk subsided, and we rode on in silence. The warming sun, a cooling breeze, and the near-silent swish of three well-greased chains were all that accompanied my thoughts as my eyes took in the slowly-changing country scenery. I rode for miles like this, occasionally interrupted by the sound of an approaching car, or the bark of an unsecured dog that wanted to give chase.
We hit the turn-around point in Black Creek around noon. We ate lunch as we rested on the bench outside the grocery store. After about 20 minutes, we hopped back in our saddles and turned our wheels back to Raleigh. For me, this second half of a ride is always the easiest. The miles before the halfway point are a mental challenge because there's that annoying inner voice that reminds me how easy it would be to give up and go home. But after I reach the halfway point, the decision to ride the miles ahead of me has already been made; everything that follows is as inevitable as the setting sun. Since I no longer have to struggle with my inner weakness, the rest of the ride may as well be downhill with following winds.
At least that's my theory. My body had other ideas. By the time we got to the next control, my lower back was hurting and my hands were flirting with numbness. I did some stretching, which helped, but not enough. A few miles later, I told Alan to go ahead without me while I stopped to stretch. Mike had already left us behind, and I strongly suspect that Alan had only been riding with me out of courtesy to the new guy. After I stretched, I raised my handlebars so I wouldn't put so much strain on my back or weight on my hands. It made a huge difference. I caught up with Alan and Mike as they leisurely waited for me at another gas station. Kindly, they pretended they'd just arrived, and we all took a break and drank some water to help cool off. When we got back on our bikes, we had just 10 miles to go.
I pulled into the McDonald's around 5:25, put my bike and gear in the van, and went inside to officially complete the trip. We treated ourselves to dessert, and chatted about the ride. Yes, I was the last to finish, but I finished, and that's what was important. It took me just over 10 hours to ride 127 miles, about how long it took for me to ride 100 miles just last month. I'm quite pleased with that.
When I got back to my van, I discovered two tumblers full of coffee that were still hot. I drank it all before I got home.
Monday, May 16, 2011
7 O'clock in the WHAT?
My work has flexible scheduling, and I probably get a bit of extra leeway because I commute by bicycle.
So, do I get up early, and ride into work ahead of traffic? Heck no. I wake up, wait for rush hour traffic to end, THEN I ride to work. Mornings were made for sleep. Days where I have to get out the door any time before the ungodly hour of 9:30 require coffee. Coffee is proof that there is a loving God; through it He gives us the strength to bear the unbearable.
I say all this to point out that I'm not a morning person.
Last Saturday, I had group bicycle ride that required me, not to wake up by 7 o'clock, but to to be at the starting point at 7 o'clock. In the morning. A 7 in the MORNING? Who knew? What's worse, the start was 40-50 minutes away by car. When you're up early enough that the coffee shops aren't open when you go out the door, you're up too early. I'm just saying. Since it's been established that coffee is a gift from God, I can't think of a better working definition of "an ungodly hour" than one where you can't buy coffee at one of the local temples, err, coffee shops.
Last week's ride was a nice 100k fundraiser for the Fuquay-Varina United Methodist Church, put on by their "Spiritual Spinners" cycling club. They raised a ton of money for a laundry list of worthy causes. While they were at it, they put on a really great ride. I look forward to riding alongside them on the Tour de Cure next month. More likely behind them - they're faster than me.
I was 'the only' of the ride. The only one with fenders, the only one with disc brakes, the only one without drop bars, the only one with a handlebar bag, and the only one wearing a green jersey. Probably the only one with rain gear in the event that the skies opened up like the weatherman predicted. I suspect, had the rain started, there'd have been a contest to see who could draft behind my fenders. The rain never came, but I was ready for it. It was almost disappointing after the way my last long-distance ride turned out. Almost.
I went with Aesop's Tortoise Strategy for this ride - as few stops as possible, and just keep spinning the pedals. I brought enough fig bars to fuel me the whole distance, enough water bottles to cover half the route. Most riders hit all three stops, & spent more time at each one. I stuck with my strategy, and since the same people passed me two or three times, it seems to have worked.
The ride started at 8, and the noon church bells rang as I pulled into the finish all alone, which was kinda cool, to tell you the truth.
I got in trouble, though. My wife wanted to be there when I crossed the finish, and she figured I wouldn't finish until 12:30 or later. Next time? I'll call her when I hit the last rest stop, and wait until she's waiting for me. Sure, it'll mean that my overall time will suffer, but making her happy makes me happy.
So, do I get up early, and ride into work ahead of traffic? Heck no. I wake up, wait for rush hour traffic to end, THEN I ride to work. Mornings were made for sleep. Days where I have to get out the door any time before the ungodly hour of 9:30 require coffee. Coffee is proof that there is a loving God; through it He gives us the strength to bear the unbearable.
I say all this to point out that I'm not a morning person.
Last Saturday, I had group bicycle ride that required me, not to wake up by 7 o'clock, but to to be at the starting point at 7 o'clock. In the morning. A 7 in the MORNING? Who knew? What's worse, the start was 40-50 minutes away by car. When you're up early enough that the coffee shops aren't open when you go out the door, you're up too early. I'm just saying. Since it's been established that coffee is a gift from God, I can't think of a better working definition of "an ungodly hour" than one where you can't buy coffee at one of the local temples, err, coffee shops.
Last week's ride was a nice 100k fundraiser for the Fuquay-Varina United Methodist Church, put on by their "Spiritual Spinners" cycling club. They raised a ton of money for a laundry list of worthy causes. While they were at it, they put on a really great ride. I look forward to riding alongside them on the Tour de Cure next month. More likely behind them - they're faster than me.
I was 'the only' of the ride. The only one with fenders, the only one with disc brakes, the only one without drop bars, the only one with a handlebar bag, and the only one wearing a green jersey. Probably the only one with rain gear in the event that the skies opened up like the weatherman predicted. I suspect, had the rain started, there'd have been a contest to see who could draft behind my fenders. The rain never came, but I was ready for it. It was almost disappointing after the way my last long-distance ride turned out. Almost.
I went with Aesop's Tortoise Strategy for this ride - as few stops as possible, and just keep spinning the pedals. I brought enough fig bars to fuel me the whole distance, enough water bottles to cover half the route. Most riders hit all three stops, & spent more time at each one. I stuck with my strategy, and since the same people passed me two or three times, it seems to have worked.
The ride started at 8, and the noon church bells rang as I pulled into the finish all alone, which was kinda cool, to tell you the truth.
I got in trouble, though. My wife wanted to be there when I crossed the finish, and she figured I wouldn't finish until 12:30 or later. Next time? I'll call her when I hit the last rest stop, and wait until she's waiting for me. Sure, it'll mean that my overall time will suffer, but making her happy makes me happy.
Monday, April 11, 2011
The Last Two Miles
April 9th, 2011, 10 a.m.: "Just two more miles to go." That's what I told myself when I hopped on my bike at a Cary Starbucks and started a training ride.
Around 1p.m., a convenience store clerk in Broadway asked how far I was riding that day, I told her, "Just two miles."
Ten minutes later, I realized I'd missed a turn. The blessing of a GPS-enabled cell phone got me back on track. While I was on my unexpected detour, I told myself: "Just two more miles to go."
I pulled into Jitter Bugz in Sanford about 3 p.m., and settled in for a lunch break. It has a nice atmosphere, and the espresso was excellent; I'll have to go back again. I finished my lunch, hopped back on my bike, looked at the hills ahead of me, and started riding the last two miles.
Around Five p.m., the hail started; it was hardly enough to wet the roads as it melted, and it stopped after 15 minutes. I kept riding, and told myself "I just gotta ride the last two miles."
At Six, as I was winding my way between Jordan Lake and Shearon Harris, it began to rain. The forecast had called for isolated thunderstorms, which come and go very quickly. I only had two more miles to go, so I put on my rain gear and just kept riding.
By Seven, while I coming into Apex, the rain transformed into a torrential downpour. But it was no big deal, because I only had to ride the last two miles.
By seven-thirty, the lightning started; it was getting dark, and the rain was so heavy that I had trouble making out the street signs. But the lightning was far away, and I was relatively warm. I had headlights, tail lights, and my rain gear was just only starting to soak through. As I backtracked through Apex due to a wrong turn, I reminded myself that I just had those last two miles to go.
August 17th, 1985. I woke up early, rode to Richard Barkschat's house, and we went for a ride. Like many Saturdays, we had no particular destination in mind. We ambled along Pacific Coast Highway, inland to visit a few friends, had pizza at our favorite place near the college, stopped to catch a movie, and finally turned our wheels home at sunset. When I left Barkie's place, his odometer read 95 miles. When I got home, I'd ridden an extra 3 - two miles short of a full century. It was dark, I had no headlight, and safety was a concern; I called it a day. Soon after, my bike was stolen; unable to replace it, I gave up cycling.
By Eight O'clock, I was back in Cary. the rain was still coming down hard, & the lightning was getting close. I was soaked to the skin, & my feet were floating in my cleats. I could no longer see well enough to avoid the rain-slick lane markers on the roads; Again, as it was twenty-five years earlier, I called the ride due to safety concerns, but I'd already completed the goal I'd set out: my odometer said I rode 101.7 miles, but as far as I'm concerned, I simply finished the last two miles of a ride I started twenty five years ago.
Around 1p.m., a convenience store clerk in Broadway asked how far I was riding that day, I told her, "Just two miles."
Ten minutes later, I realized I'd missed a turn. The blessing of a GPS-enabled cell phone got me back on track. While I was on my unexpected detour, I told myself: "Just two more miles to go."
I pulled into Jitter Bugz in Sanford about 3 p.m., and settled in for a lunch break. It has a nice atmosphere, and the espresso was excellent; I'll have to go back again. I finished my lunch, hopped back on my bike, looked at the hills ahead of me, and started riding the last two miles.
Around Five p.m., the hail started; it was hardly enough to wet the roads as it melted, and it stopped after 15 minutes. I kept riding, and told myself "I just gotta ride the last two miles."
At Six, as I was winding my way between Jordan Lake and Shearon Harris, it began to rain. The forecast had called for isolated thunderstorms, which come and go very quickly. I only had two more miles to go, so I put on my rain gear and just kept riding.
By Seven, while I coming into Apex, the rain transformed into a torrential downpour. But it was no big deal, because I only had to ride the last two miles.
By seven-thirty, the lightning started; it was getting dark, and the rain was so heavy that I had trouble making out the street signs. But the lightning was far away, and I was relatively warm. I had headlights, tail lights, and my rain gear was just only starting to soak through. As I backtracked through Apex due to a wrong turn, I reminded myself that I just had those last two miles to go.
August 17th, 1985. I woke up early, rode to Richard Barkschat's house, and we went for a ride. Like many Saturdays, we had no particular destination in mind. We ambled along Pacific Coast Highway, inland to visit a few friends, had pizza at our favorite place near the college, stopped to catch a movie, and finally turned our wheels home at sunset. When I left Barkie's place, his odometer read 95 miles. When I got home, I'd ridden an extra 3 - two miles short of a full century. It was dark, I had no headlight, and safety was a concern; I called it a day. Soon after, my bike was stolen; unable to replace it, I gave up cycling.
By Eight O'clock, I was back in Cary. the rain was still coming down hard, & the lightning was getting close. I was soaked to the skin, & my feet were floating in my cleats. I could no longer see well enough to avoid the rain-slick lane markers on the roads; Again, as it was twenty-five years earlier, I called the ride due to safety concerns, but I'd already completed the goal I'd set out: my odometer said I rode 101.7 miles, but as far as I'm concerned, I simply finished the last two miles of a ride I started twenty five years ago.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Everybody's home, and Pixie is happy
My wife made it home today. Pixie is happy.
We actually had to schedule her arrival so it would NOT coincide with one of Pixie's bell-ringing trips outside; we didn't want to reinforce her idea that if she went outside, people would magically appear.
I need a rest. Keeping up with a frantic puppy for three days straight is a lot of work.
We actually had to schedule her arrival so it would NOT coincide with one of Pixie's bell-ringing trips outside; we didn't want to reinforce her idea that if she went outside, people would magically appear.
I need a rest. Keeping up with a frantic puppy for three days straight is a lot of work.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Ride Postponed
My wife is visiting her best friend, who lives a couple of hours away. This is a Good ThingTM. I'm a big fan of keeping my wife happy, and visiting her best friend helps make her happy.
But two things happened this weekend that changed my plans. First, we decided that Pixie, our lovable toy poodle, would stay home with me. She gets carsick, and the two hour drive is just miserable for her. Second, at the last minute, all the kids decided to go with mom.
So here I am, at home with Pixie, and getting ready to ride a century. Now, Pixie is a Good Girl. Normally, I could feed, water, walk, and play with her, then schedule my ride right, and she'd happily curl up into her crate while I was gone for 8 or more hours. Normally.
But Pixie is also a very social dog. We have a big family - eight kids - and we usually have people in and out of our house a lot. With 'mom' and all the kids gone, Pixie is very lonely. Everybody left Thursday night, so she's been missing everybody for over a day now. She rings her doorbell to go outside, so I take her out, and walk her for 30 minutes while she takes me all over the neighborhood. I get her inside, and she runs all over the house looking for the people she was convinced had come home while she was out. Five minutes later, she's ringing her bell again, and we start the cycle over. It went on like this all evening, and now all morning.
It took me a while to figure out that she was headed everywhere where my kids hang out - the path to the bus stop my two daughters take, the walkway to the elementary school my youngest son takes... the yards to my kids' friends' houses... the park where they all play... over and over, every trip, two or three times an hour.
It's pitiful. She's lonely, and no amount of ME spending time with her can distract her from the basic truth of her world: everybody is MISSING, but she's convinced that if she goes outside and comes back in enough times, they will magically come home.
I just simply can't see abandoning her in her time of need. Next week, that ride is mine. For now, I'm trying to console a lonely puppy.
But two things happened this weekend that changed my plans. First, we decided that Pixie, our lovable toy poodle, would stay home with me. She gets carsick, and the two hour drive is just miserable for her. Second, at the last minute, all the kids decided to go with mom.
So here I am, at home with Pixie, and getting ready to ride a century. Now, Pixie is a Good Girl. Normally, I could feed, water, walk, and play with her, then schedule my ride right, and she'd happily curl up into her crate while I was gone for 8 or more hours. Normally.
But Pixie is also a very social dog. We have a big family - eight kids - and we usually have people in and out of our house a lot. With 'mom' and all the kids gone, Pixie is very lonely. Everybody left Thursday night, so she's been missing everybody for over a day now. She rings her doorbell to go outside, so I take her out, and walk her for 30 minutes while she takes me all over the neighborhood. I get her inside, and she runs all over the house looking for the people she was convinced had come home while she was out. Five minutes later, she's ringing her bell again, and we start the cycle over. It went on like this all evening, and now all morning.
It took me a while to figure out that she was headed everywhere where my kids hang out - the path to the bus stop my two daughters take, the walkway to the elementary school my youngest son takes... the yards to my kids' friends' houses... the park where they all play... over and over, every trip, two or three times an hour.
It's pitiful. She's lonely, and no amount of ME spending time with her can distract her from the basic truth of her world: everybody is MISSING, but she's convinced that if she goes outside and comes back in enough times, they will magically come home.
I just simply can't see abandoning her in her time of need. Next week, that ride is mine. For now, I'm trying to console a lonely puppy.
Friday, April 1, 2011
This Saturday: April Fool Ride
I'm riding my first Century tomorrow. Let's see if everything comes together like it should.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Proof of Concept: Fig Bars Work
After my nutrition 'eureka' moment, I decided to try to verify my findings by another test.
This time, the distance goal was 100k, about 10 miles further than I'd ridden the week before.
The weather on Saturday was perfect. It started off in the 40's, and was predicted to get up to somewhere near 60 degrees. You can't ask for anything better on the last weekend in January.
Noting that in my last outing, I got a little light-headed, I swapped out my diet hydration drink with a full-calorie over-the-counter sports drink. Sodium and Potassium content was comparable between the two, so the only real difference was the extra carbs. I also decided that I'd try to eat slightly more total carbs, but spread them out throughout the hour instead of one larger meal every 45 minutes.
My nutrition plan was simple: 1 fig bar every 15; 1 bottle of sports drink (~24 oz) every hour.
I delayed my 30-minute bar by 10 minutes, because I still felt too full to eat more. I got back on schedule over the next 3 feedings, and stuck to the 1 per 15 from that point forward. Next time, I'll cut my start-of-ride meal in half, which should solve that problem.
I rode south through Cary, then rode the route through Apex, and onto Old US 1, which I stuck with past the turnoff onto Lower Moncure Rd. This is pretty much what I'd done the week before, but I went further this time.
What a pleasant ride! The sun was out, and cyclists were out in force, all taking advantage of the unseasonably warm day. I stopped at Ray's Supermarket to refill and refuel, as I didn't have enough drink or fig bars to last all afternoon. I think it'll become a regular stopping point.
When I got to the 50km (~33 miles) mark, I picked the top of the next hill as my turn-around point, rode there, and reluctantly turned around.
At this point, I was feeling good, sad that I was on the last half of my ride, but happy that the headwinds that had been vexing me all day were now, quite literally, behind me.
The second half of the ride was much faster. It felt good to have the wind at my back, and I really got into the groove. I managed to find a nice position on my bars where I could tuck, got comfy on my bike, and let my legs and gears smooth out the rolling hills all the way back to Apex.
I missed a turn onto Regency, but by the time I noticed, I was at Kildaire Farm Rd, and decided I'd take it instead of doubling back. Really enjoyed the long, curving downhill that starts at Penny Rd, and seems to continue almost all the way to Tryon.
I ended the ride about 4:15 in the afternoon, about 5 1/2 hours after I started, feeling great. I'm confident I could have done more, but am trying hard to stick with my training plan, so I called it a day.
My energy levels stayed consistently high throughout the ride, and that in itself is what I was really trying to accomplish. The fact that I hit a personal distance milestone is just an added bonus.
With the nutrition issue beat, and my on-bike comfort getting there, I'm feeling more and more confident about nailing the 100 mile single day ride for the Tour de Cure in June. The two biggest issues are in the fine-tuning stage, which will let me focus on the next big hurdle - 2nd-day energy levels.
I posted my route on Runkeeper.
This time, the distance goal was 100k, about 10 miles further than I'd ridden the week before.
The weather on Saturday was perfect. It started off in the 40's, and was predicted to get up to somewhere near 60 degrees. You can't ask for anything better on the last weekend in January.
Noting that in my last outing, I got a little light-headed, I swapped out my diet hydration drink with a full-calorie over-the-counter sports drink. Sodium and Potassium content was comparable between the two, so the only real difference was the extra carbs. I also decided that I'd try to eat slightly more total carbs, but spread them out throughout the hour instead of one larger meal every 45 minutes.
My nutrition plan was simple: 1 fig bar every 15; 1 bottle of sports drink (~24 oz) every hour.
I delayed my 30-minute bar by 10 minutes, because I still felt too full to eat more. I got back on schedule over the next 3 feedings, and stuck to the 1 per 15 from that point forward. Next time, I'll cut my start-of-ride meal in half, which should solve that problem.
I rode south through Cary, then rode the route through Apex, and onto Old US 1, which I stuck with past the turnoff onto Lower Moncure Rd. This is pretty much what I'd done the week before, but I went further this time.
What a pleasant ride! The sun was out, and cyclists were out in force, all taking advantage of the unseasonably warm day. I stopped at Ray's Supermarket to refill and refuel, as I didn't have enough drink or fig bars to last all afternoon. I think it'll become a regular stopping point.
When I got to the 50km (~33 miles) mark, I picked the top of the next hill as my turn-around point, rode there, and reluctantly turned around.
At this point, I was feeling good, sad that I was on the last half of my ride, but happy that the headwinds that had been vexing me all day were now, quite literally, behind me.
The second half of the ride was much faster. It felt good to have the wind at my back, and I really got into the groove. I managed to find a nice position on my bars where I could tuck, got comfy on my bike, and let my legs and gears smooth out the rolling hills all the way back to Apex.
I missed a turn onto Regency, but by the time I noticed, I was at Kildaire Farm Rd, and decided I'd take it instead of doubling back. Really enjoyed the long, curving downhill that starts at Penny Rd, and seems to continue almost all the way to Tryon.
I ended the ride about 4:15 in the afternoon, about 5 1/2 hours after I started, feeling great. I'm confident I could have done more, but am trying hard to stick with my training plan, so I called it a day.
My energy levels stayed consistently high throughout the ride, and that in itself is what I was really trying to accomplish. The fact that I hit a personal distance milestone is just an added bonus.
With the nutrition issue beat, and my on-bike comfort getting there, I'm feeling more and more confident about nailing the 100 mile single day ride for the Tour de Cure in June. The two biggest issues are in the fine-tuning stage, which will let me focus on the next big hurdle - 2nd-day energy levels.
I posted my route on Runkeeper.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Excellent Training Ride!
My most immediate goal is to find a solution to my nutrition problems. Every time I ride more than about 40 miles, I bonk. This is a show-stopper. If I can't solve the nutrition equation, then I'm done. You simply CAN'T safely ride past the bonk; fatigue + dizziness means you end up swerving in front of a car or into a ditch. It doesn't help that you get mentally impaired and might not initially recognize that you're in distress.
Clearly, this is a problem that has to be solved before I try riding 100 miles or more!
I've been very concerned that traditional methods used by other riders and runners (consuming gels and drinks that have extremely high simple carbohydrate content) would simply not be possible for me, due to my particular dietary restrictions. But after doing some research, I thought I'd try a mix of complex and simple carbs, generously washed down with whatever I had in my hydration bottle.
After being frustrated by poor weather on Saturday, I managed to get out on a training ride Sunday. This was a big test. I needed to ride 50+ miles, to force myself to burn more calories than my body can store in readily-available glycogen.
I ate some oatmeal about 2 hours pre-ride, then ate two fig bars immediately before starting. I figured this would give my body the best chance at having plenty of energy to digest as a start.
My on-bike nutrition plan was to eat 2 fig bars every 45 minutes or so. I brought enough to last me for a 4 hour ride at this pace. I also brought with me two GU Energy Gel packs. I'd never tried them, and was frankly a bit worried about being able to digest them without having cramping, but I HAVE to solve the nutrition equation, so I brought them along 'just in case'.
I mostly stuck with the 2-bars per 45 schedule. I modified it a bit because I realized I can't really eat two bars quickly while I'm riding; after the first round, I at one five minutes before the 45-minute mark, and the second five minutes after.
At two hours, I had to stop and refill my water bottles at a convenience store. While I was there, I picked up some more fig bars (blueberry-flavored for variety), and ate two (in addition to the 2-per-45), generously washing them down with sports drink. I also picked up a 'normal' sports drink bottle. I'd been hydrating with a low-calorie sports drink; more on this later.
At about three and a half hours, I noticed that I was weaving a bit, and was starting to get a touch light-headed. I figured it was the onset of a light bonk, which wasn't good. But, it was a lot better than what I was used to. At this point, I decided to break out the GU Gel to see if it'd help get me back on track.
The GU Gels don't taste that great, and their consistency is something like honey, which is really odd when taken by itself. But they work. I 'ate' one of them, over the course of ten minutes, in three servings, each washed down with a mouthful of sports drink. Afterwards, I noticed that I felt considerably better, and continued to feel better for the remainder of the ride. Maybe it was part psychological (seemed to work a bit faster than it should), or the last round of fig bars finally kicked in. But the last hour of the ride I definitely felt better. It was about this time that I switched to the 'normal' sports drink instead of the lower-calorie variant, so maybe it was a combination of that and the GU Gel.
I wasn't at 100% at the end of the ride, but I was also not well below 50% like I would be if I'd bonked. Call it 85-90%; At the end of the ride, I felt GOOD.
GU Gels + normal sports drink works. Fig Bars + low-calorie sports drink work better than what I'd been using, but they don't keep up with my caloric burn.
This is a HUGE discovery. HUGE. I've found something that will fuel me for long rides that don't cause gastric distress.
I'll be doing more nutrition experimentation to see if I can find a lower-cost solution, but my number one barrier to endurance cycling has been breeched. I don't have the solution I want, but I have a solution. I'll have more obstacles along the way, but none of them are big enough to completely stop me.
Clearly, this is a problem that has to be solved before I try riding 100 miles or more!
I've been very concerned that traditional methods used by other riders and runners (consuming gels and drinks that have extremely high simple carbohydrate content) would simply not be possible for me, due to my particular dietary restrictions. But after doing some research, I thought I'd try a mix of complex and simple carbs, generously washed down with whatever I had in my hydration bottle.
After being frustrated by poor weather on Saturday, I managed to get out on a training ride Sunday. This was a big test. I needed to ride 50+ miles, to force myself to burn more calories than my body can store in readily-available glycogen.
I ate some oatmeal about 2 hours pre-ride, then ate two fig bars immediately before starting. I figured this would give my body the best chance at having plenty of energy to digest as a start.
My on-bike nutrition plan was to eat 2 fig bars every 45 minutes or so. I brought enough to last me for a 4 hour ride at this pace. I also brought with me two GU Energy Gel packs. I'd never tried them, and was frankly a bit worried about being able to digest them without having cramping, but I HAVE to solve the nutrition equation, so I brought them along 'just in case'.
I mostly stuck with the 2-bars per 45 schedule. I modified it a bit because I realized I can't really eat two bars quickly while I'm riding; after the first round, I at one five minutes before the 45-minute mark, and the second five minutes after.
At two hours, I had to stop and refill my water bottles at a convenience store. While I was there, I picked up some more fig bars (blueberry-flavored for variety), and ate two (in addition to the 2-per-45), generously washing them down with sports drink. I also picked up a 'normal' sports drink bottle. I'd been hydrating with a low-calorie sports drink; more on this later.
At about three and a half hours, I noticed that I was weaving a bit, and was starting to get a touch light-headed. I figured it was the onset of a light bonk, which wasn't good. But, it was a lot better than what I was used to. At this point, I decided to break out the GU Gel to see if it'd help get me back on track.
The GU Gels don't taste that great, and their consistency is something like honey, which is really odd when taken by itself. But they work. I 'ate' one of them, over the course of ten minutes, in three servings, each washed down with a mouthful of sports drink. Afterwards, I noticed that I felt considerably better, and continued to feel better for the remainder of the ride. Maybe it was part psychological (seemed to work a bit faster than it should), or the last round of fig bars finally kicked in. But the last hour of the ride I definitely felt better. It was about this time that I switched to the 'normal' sports drink instead of the lower-calorie variant, so maybe it was a combination of that and the GU Gel.
I wasn't at 100% at the end of the ride, but I was also not well below 50% like I would be if I'd bonked. Call it 85-90%; At the end of the ride, I felt GOOD.
GU Gels + normal sports drink works. Fig Bars + low-calorie sports drink work better than what I'd been using, but they don't keep up with my caloric burn.
This is a HUGE discovery. HUGE. I've found something that will fuel me for long rides that don't cause gastric distress.
I'll be doing more nutrition experimentation to see if I can find a lower-cost solution, but my number one barrier to endurance cycling has been breeched. I don't have the solution I want, but I have a solution. I'll have more obstacles along the way, but none of them are big enough to completely stop me.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Who is This "Clyde" Fellow, Anyway?
This is a question that's come up a few times.
Well, Clyde is my bicycle. Some people name their cars, especially older cars that have developed a bit of character. I name bicycles.
Well, Clyde is my bicycle. Some people name their cars, especially older cars that have developed a bit of character. I name bicycles.
Clyde not the fastest; he's not the lightest. He's built heavy; he's built sturdy, and he's made to carry stuff. He's got a rear rack, panniers (kind of like a horse's saddlebags, but not attached to the saddle, so they need a fancy name), fenders to help deal with inclement weather, and gearing designed for climbing hills with a load rather than hammer out the flats at high speed.
In short, he's more of a Clydesdale than a Quarter-horse. The name just makes sense.
I ride Clyde to work 3-4 days a week; I take him to run errands. You might see me around town loaded up with stuff from the grocery store or Big Box retailer, pedaling to my heart's content, a giant smile on my face.
You see, riding Clyde is fun. He's not fast, but I know that whatever the job is, he'll help me get it done. Eventually.
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