Yes, I've been racking up mileage, but have I been climbing? Well...no. This past Saturday was my first attempt to remedy that. With the help of my new eTrex, Google Maps, Google Earth, and GPSBabel, I created a GPX file that would get me to Malabar Farms, home of many short and steep climbs. I still don't think I approached anything close to what I'll see on the Appalachian Mountains Loop. About the best I can hope for within 100 miles of the house is 400-500 feet of elevation change total, and none of the climbs are more than maybe 300 feet of vertical gain. The kicker is that I more or less had my lunch handed to me over 146 miles. Matters were not helped by me forcing my body into a total bonk. It's kind of funny now, but at the time I thought it would be a good idea to see how I would react mentally and physically if I ran out of food and water. It could happen on the AML so why not be prepared, I thought. So how did I react? Uh, not well. The only lesson I learned is make damn sure I don't run out of food and water. My mood could have best been described as blackout. Just guessing but I was probably about 15 minutes away from going feral. Not surprisingly the ride taken as a whole was a bit of a confidence shaker.
Over the last couple of days I've reflected on the ride and looked at the component pieces that conspired to knock me off my perch, and I realize it's probably for the best. I've been starting to form some unrealistic expectations of what can be accomplished during the AML. As much as I am about the journey and not the destination, I have a bad habit of setting unrealistic goals that aren't based on anything other than mostly wild-ass guesses. Saturday's ride was a Chuck Norris roundhouse to the temple, shattering some of the crazy notions I had about how I was going to conquer the AML. Humility is once again my watchword, and my ego is riding in the backseat with it's mouth taped shut.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Monday, September 10, 2012
Roll with it
What a weekend! It had all the hallmarks of being an ordinary, "didn't ride as much as I wanted" weekend. Instead, I racked up 205 miles over two days, and got my ass handed to me at Frankenbike.
The week had been less than stellar, riding just 2 of the five days so I was pinning a lot on the weekend. I rode Friday morning in the hopes of fitting in two rides, but it just wasn't to be. I still want to be a father and husband so I bagged the afternoon ride in favor of a family dinner and the wife and I working our way through season 5 of Dexter. It was a good evening and I was excited about the weekend cycling plans. Keith, a seasoned MTBer and I had planned for Saturday at Mohican with 24 miles of singletrack as our playground. Unfortunately, the threat of thunderstorms forced us to push to Sunday which opened up the day for me to plan a day-long ride. Then came the curveball.
My wife scheduled an aerobics class for 9:15 on Saturday morning. My daughter had a friend sleeping over and I could not provide adequate parental supervision, or make pancakes, from sixty miles away. Improvisation demanded and delivered. I had a quilt and tent that needing sewing and I needed to learn how to sew. OK, I can adapt. My mother-in-law was hastily called in to teach me to sew on Saturday morning. Fine.
Except Saturday morning my wife was home from aerobics at 9:30 from a class that doesn't end until 10:15. What the hell?! Suffice it to say, she did not attend. I'm sorry to say that I was more than a little annoyed and was feeling very self-righteous; something along the lines of "does she have no respect for what I trying to do?" I can't change the fact that I thought this, but I am thankful I did not give voice to these thoughts, and with a little reflection I realize just how much she is accomodating me and my lunacy; just another lesson in humility and perspective.
So the net of all these changes was that I left for a ride around 11:30 with a brief stop at the Westerville Bike Shop to discuss cleat position and knee issues with Mike. And just in case I haven't said it before, Mason and Mike are awesome. Forget Trek, Roll, BicycleOne and BikeSource, if you want good advice that comes from a lifetime of riding and repairing bikes, go see Mason or Mike at the Westerville Bike Shop. They are not interested in getting rich. They just want everyone to ride a bike and enjoy it. Love those guys!
I had no firm plans on my route as I rolled out of Westerville, and I found myself taking the right-hand fork in Galena that leads to Sunbury. Then onto North Old 3C Highway which after two rights and two lefts leads to Centerburg and my old friend, the Heart of Ohio Trail. A few course deviations were required but I ended up riding to Fredericksburg and back, 180 miles and 90 minutes faster thant the first time I rode it. Hurrah! Even better, the cleat adjustment must have been spot-on as there was zero knee pain or soreness. This is welcome news. For the mileage I am planning, my position has to be near perfect. Any misalignment will manifest in a knee, an ankle, my lower back... I know that position is a moving target, and there will be adjustments from season-to-season, year-to-year, and bike-to-bike. It just feels good to be somewhere solid right now. Finally, I arrived home on Sunday morning just after 1:00. I was cold and tired. After 13 hours of riding, I had just 11 hours before Frankenbike started. Yeah, Keith and I settled on Frankenbike instead of Mohican. For me, it was somewhere around the 103-mile point. It was clearly a case of biting off more than I could chew.
Sunday morning...I mean later Sunday morning, I wake before 7:00. Damn my body clock! Coffee, pasta, bibs into the washer and dryer, swap my rear tire for something with some tread, and off we go for who knows what. We arrive 20 minutes before the race (I mean ride!) begins. We make it in time to be treated to a truly magnificent pre-ride briefing. More f-bombs than you could shake a f***ing stick at put everyone in the right mood for what lay ahead. And oh, what lay ahead! Up or down, no flat for me! I weigh about 20 pounds more than Keith but that does not fully account for the difference in climbing speed. I would wager that he might be the best 220-pound climber you'll ever meet. And he is a gifted descender. He will defer and give credit to his full-suspension Salsa rig, but it's a lot more him than it is the bike. Unfortunately, I was cooked after 25 miles and did not (could not) go out for the second loop. I took a nap while Keith tackled the second 25. Yes, I was tired from the previous day's effort, but the real story is that I do not climb enough and I will pay for that at the AML. That is for sure. Credit to Mason and his crew for a great course and some great entertainment. Finally, Scioto Trails has some epic singletrack, and I highly encourage an excursion if you are in the area.
For the record, 283 miles (new high) for the week and a weigh-in of 236.2 pounds (new low).
The week had been less than stellar, riding just 2 of the five days so I was pinning a lot on the weekend. I rode Friday morning in the hopes of fitting in two rides, but it just wasn't to be. I still want to be a father and husband so I bagged the afternoon ride in favor of a family dinner and the wife and I working our way through season 5 of Dexter. It was a good evening and I was excited about the weekend cycling plans. Keith, a seasoned MTBer and I had planned for Saturday at Mohican with 24 miles of singletrack as our playground. Unfortunately, the threat of thunderstorms forced us to push to Sunday which opened up the day for me to plan a day-long ride. Then came the curveball.
My wife scheduled an aerobics class for 9:15 on Saturday morning. My daughter had a friend sleeping over and I could not provide adequate parental supervision, or make pancakes, from sixty miles away. Improvisation demanded and delivered. I had a quilt and tent that needing sewing and I needed to learn how to sew. OK, I can adapt. My mother-in-law was hastily called in to teach me to sew on Saturday morning. Fine.
Except Saturday morning my wife was home from aerobics at 9:30 from a class that doesn't end until 10:15. What the hell?! Suffice it to say, she did not attend. I'm sorry to say that I was more than a little annoyed and was feeling very self-righteous; something along the lines of "does she have no respect for what I trying to do?" I can't change the fact that I thought this, but I am thankful I did not give voice to these thoughts, and with a little reflection I realize just how much she is accomodating me and my lunacy; just another lesson in humility and perspective.
So the net of all these changes was that I left for a ride around 11:30 with a brief stop at the Westerville Bike Shop to discuss cleat position and knee issues with Mike. And just in case I haven't said it before, Mason and Mike are awesome. Forget Trek, Roll, BicycleOne and BikeSource, if you want good advice that comes from a lifetime of riding and repairing bikes, go see Mason or Mike at the Westerville Bike Shop. They are not interested in getting rich. They just want everyone to ride a bike and enjoy it. Love those guys!
I had no firm plans on my route as I rolled out of Westerville, and I found myself taking the right-hand fork in Galena that leads to Sunbury. Then onto North Old 3C Highway which after two rights and two lefts leads to Centerburg and my old friend, the Heart of Ohio Trail. A few course deviations were required but I ended up riding to Fredericksburg and back, 180 miles and 90 minutes faster thant the first time I rode it. Hurrah! Even better, the cleat adjustment must have been spot-on as there was zero knee pain or soreness. This is welcome news. For the mileage I am planning, my position has to be near perfect. Any misalignment will manifest in a knee, an ankle, my lower back... I know that position is a moving target, and there will be adjustments from season-to-season, year-to-year, and bike-to-bike. It just feels good to be somewhere solid right now. Finally, I arrived home on Sunday morning just after 1:00. I was cold and tired. After 13 hours of riding, I had just 11 hours before Frankenbike started. Yeah, Keith and I settled on Frankenbike instead of Mohican. For me, it was somewhere around the 103-mile point. It was clearly a case of biting off more than I could chew.
Sunday morning...I mean later Sunday morning, I wake before 7:00. Damn my body clock! Coffee, pasta, bibs into the washer and dryer, swap my rear tire for something with some tread, and off we go for who knows what. We arrive 20 minutes before the race (I mean ride!) begins. We make it in time to be treated to a truly magnificent pre-ride briefing. More f-bombs than you could shake a f***ing stick at put everyone in the right mood for what lay ahead. And oh, what lay ahead! Up or down, no flat for me! I weigh about 20 pounds more than Keith but that does not fully account for the difference in climbing speed. I would wager that he might be the best 220-pound climber you'll ever meet. And he is a gifted descender. He will defer and give credit to his full-suspension Salsa rig, but it's a lot more him than it is the bike. Unfortunately, I was cooked after 25 miles and did not (could not) go out for the second loop. I took a nap while Keith tackled the second 25. Yes, I was tired from the previous day's effort, but the real story is that I do not climb enough and I will pay for that at the AML. That is for sure. Credit to Mason and his crew for a great course and some great entertainment. Finally, Scioto Trails has some epic singletrack, and I highly encourage an excursion if you are in the area.
For the record, 283 miles (new high) for the week and a weigh-in of 236.2 pounds (new low).
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Labor Day update
I have reached a plateau. I knew it would come sooner or later. I've lost right around 40 pounds and the body seems to be fighting my attempts to lose more. My initial response in the past has been frustration followed by ever more desperate weight loss techniques. This time around I'm shooting for a reasonable response. For instance, I had a flat week and indulged this weekend. I shouldn't really be surprised that I continue to hover around the 240 mark. Fortunately, I can refer to spreadsheet tracking my weight loss for a little bit of reassurance and motivation.
The long Sunday ride (130 miles) was preceded on Saturday by a 56-mile ride where I averaged 16 mph. I am slowly starting to put back-to-back long rides together. Sunday was a pretty important ride mostly because I started out feeling uncomfortable in the saddle and I didn't have the freshest legs. There will be days during the TD where I feel lousy so I need some familiarity. The on and off rain made sure I never really got comfortable. I was constantly up and out of the saddle to give my hindparts a break. I managed about 13 mph but the chafing got pretty bad towards the end and I'm still feeling it 36 hours later. I'm happy to have ridden the distance I intended when not at my best. Clearly though, I'm going to have to find a way to prevent the chafing as it results from pretty much any ride over four hours. I think I'll give Vaeline a try next. I thought Gold Bond powder would be the answer but it's difficult to apply while wearing bibs. Trailside just doesn't seem private enough for a proper application. Not to mention that when the rain is pouring no amount of powder is going to work.
On the kit assembly, I received my materials from Ray Jardine and have begun making the quilt. I had a heck of a time cutting the material with the scissors we own. Today will include a visit to the crafts store for a pair that can cut fabric. I'm really impressed with the package from Ray. For someone that's a total noob with a sewing machine, I find his instructions thorough and extremely helpful. I'm hoping the results are worthy of the design. More importantly, I hope it allows me restful sleep.
So here's a quick aside about surprises. The scissors reminded me that surprises are generally not good. The last three or four years I've been working on a list of universal truths. One that's been hard to get a handle on is this; the fewer surprises a person experiences, the happier they are. That's the working statement, subject to revision or complete dismissal. My thinking goes like this. As children we are conditioned to think surprises are good. Christmas and birthday presents are often purchased and held under a veil of secrecy while the child eagerly counts the days. Trips to the movies, the mall, or the playground are surprise rewards for good behavior. These are all parental constructs that manufacture the idea of a good surprise. In reality, surprises are seldom good news. In my experience, surprises often grow out of little things that repeatedly escape our notice until they become big show-stopping problems. Stranded on the side of the rode because the car ran out of gas or broke down due to missed maintenance? No milk for the kid's cereal? Getting calls from collections because a bill is past due? Putting on ten or fifteen pounds a year? These things are not inevitable. They usually just require us to pay attention. As I write this, I realize that there are plenty of good surprises; unexpected tranquility probably tops my list. I think what I'm trying to get at is this: we frequently cause our own problems and undermine the peace we seek. My assumption that the scissors would be up to the task put me in a bad mood as I struggled through the quilt project. Not a recipe for success or peace.
The long Sunday ride (130 miles) was preceded on Saturday by a 56-mile ride where I averaged 16 mph. I am slowly starting to put back-to-back long rides together. Sunday was a pretty important ride mostly because I started out feeling uncomfortable in the saddle and I didn't have the freshest legs. There will be days during the TD where I feel lousy so I need some familiarity. The on and off rain made sure I never really got comfortable. I was constantly up and out of the saddle to give my hindparts a break. I managed about 13 mph but the chafing got pretty bad towards the end and I'm still feeling it 36 hours later. I'm happy to have ridden the distance I intended when not at my best. Clearly though, I'm going to have to find a way to prevent the chafing as it results from pretty much any ride over four hours. I think I'll give Vaeline a try next. I thought Gold Bond powder would be the answer but it's difficult to apply while wearing bibs. Trailside just doesn't seem private enough for a proper application. Not to mention that when the rain is pouring no amount of powder is going to work.
On the kit assembly, I received my materials from Ray Jardine and have begun making the quilt. I had a heck of a time cutting the material with the scissors we own. Today will include a visit to the crafts store for a pair that can cut fabric. I'm really impressed with the package from Ray. For someone that's a total noob with a sewing machine, I find his instructions thorough and extremely helpful. I'm hoping the results are worthy of the design. More importantly, I hope it allows me restful sleep.
So here's a quick aside about surprises. The scissors reminded me that surprises are generally not good. The last three or four years I've been working on a list of universal truths. One that's been hard to get a handle on is this; the fewer surprises a person experiences, the happier they are. That's the working statement, subject to revision or complete dismissal. My thinking goes like this. As children we are conditioned to think surprises are good. Christmas and birthday presents are often purchased and held under a veil of secrecy while the child eagerly counts the days. Trips to the movies, the mall, or the playground are surprise rewards for good behavior. These are all parental constructs that manufacture the idea of a good surprise. In reality, surprises are seldom good news. In my experience, surprises often grow out of little things that repeatedly escape our notice until they become big show-stopping problems. Stranded on the side of the rode because the car ran out of gas or broke down due to missed maintenance? No milk for the kid's cereal? Getting calls from collections because a bill is past due? Putting on ten or fifteen pounds a year? These things are not inevitable. They usually just require us to pay attention. As I write this, I realize that there are plenty of good surprises; unexpected tranquility probably tops my list. I think what I'm trying to get at is this: we frequently cause our own problems and undermine the peace we seek. My assumption that the scissors would be up to the task put me in a bad mood as I struggled through the quilt project. Not a recipe for success or peace.
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